VOCAL EXPRESSION 
IN SPEECH 

GORDON -LYMAN 




Book , Q & 



COPYRIGHT DKFOSIT. 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN 
SPEECH 



A TREATISE ON THE FUNDAMENTALS OF PUBLIC 

SPEAKING ADAPTED TO THE USE OF 

COLLEGES AND UNIVERSITIES 



BY 
HENRY EVARTS GORDON, A.M. 

WITH THE EDITORIAL COOPERATION OF 

ROLLO L. LYMAN 

UNIVERSITY OF WISCONSIN 



GINN AND COMPANY 

BOSTON • NEW YORK • CHICAGO • LONDON 



COPYRIGHT, 1911, BY GINN AND COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



?N 






SEfte atftenaeum -gregg 



)CUaS3818 



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DEDICATED TO 
THE WILL-TO-EXPRESS 



From age to age, 
a?id i?i every peopled land, 
a vital instinct, 
imperishable as fire, 
appears to be reborn ; 
a bodiless principle, 

peremptory as some vast genius of the elements, 
seeks embodiment. 

Under that yearning Spirit's touch, 
the institutions of men are as clay ; 
the stubborn ?ieck of custom is docile. 
Stung by his voice, 

the nations and the commu?iities awaken, 
grow articulate, 

freshly co?nprehend one another and themselves ; 
moved by his imperious smile, 
they do his bidding wonderingly. 
That unwithstandable Spirit is. the Will-to-Express . 

A new century, 

beautiful and terrible in porte?it, 

charged with unexampled passion a?id delight, 

waits to be expressed. . . . 

An institution which shall fail, 

or refuse to become the responsive instrument, . . . 

will decline in power, 

and another shall rise in its place, 

and subserve the Will-to-Express. — Percy Mackaye 



PREFACE 

This treatise on vocal expression in speech offers an ex- 
position of the scientific basis of the speech arts. So far 
as the author knows, this exposition is now presented for 
the first time in any treatise. It is in line with modern 
psychology and physics. 

The terms used throughout the work have departed as 
little as possible from the terms already sanctioned by long 
usage ; where there is a departure, the terms have been 
such as have been approved in the kindred art of music. 

This treatise presents also practical methods for voice 
cultivation and vocal interpretation based on the principles 
of the science and art of speech. The selections for prac- 
tice have been carefully chosen with reference to their 
availability for classroom work, having been given a thor- 
ough trial there. Many of them are new and appear for 
the first time in such a manual. 

The author is under great obligation to many firms and 
authors for the use of copyrighted selections. Many ac- 
knowledgments are made in immediate connection with 
the selections. Especial thanks are due to the following 
publishers and authors : to Houghton Mifflin Company 
for the use of extracts from Emerson's Essays and Poems, 
from Lowell's Poems, from Crother's "The Gentle Reader," 
from Hawthorne's " Marble Faun," from Holmes's "Auto- 
crat of the Breakfast Table," from Longfellow's " The Ride 
of Paul Revere," from Trowbridge's "The Vagabonds"; 



VI VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

to Longmans, Green & Co. for the use of extracts from 
the works of Ruskin ; to B. W. Huebsch for the use 
of selections from Griggs's "A Book of Meditations"; to 
David C. Cook Publishing Company and to the authors 
quoted for selections by Cochran and Wells which ap- 
peared in the Young People s Weekly ; to Small, May- 
nard & Company for the use of Mrs. Gilman's "A 
Conservative"; to Lothrop, Lee & Shepard Co., and to 
the author quoted, for the use of "Across the Fields to 
Anne " and " If We Had the Time " ; to Silver, Burdett & 
Company, and the editor of the volume quoted, for the 
use of A Laughing Chorus from " Nature in Verse"; to 
the Leland Powers School of the Spoken Word for the 
use of their arrangements of "The Coming of Arthur" 
and a scene from "David Copperfield " ; to Harper and 
Brothers for the use of an extract from an article by 
Mackye in the North American Review ; to the Outing 
Publishing Company for the use of "A Day in June" by 
C. W. Stevenson ; to the editors and publishers of Collier's 
The National Weekly for the use of " Charlie Johnson's 
Fine " ; to the publishers of Smart Set for the use of 
the poem, "A Wanderer's Litany"; to Emerson Hough 
for the use of an extract from his lecture, "Plain Ameri- 
cans " ; and to many others, not only for the use of selec- 
tions but for helpful suggestions and criticisms. 

HENRY E. GORDON 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

INTRODUCTION I 

CHAPTER 

I. Essentials in Vocal Expression 15 

II. Speech Melody . 22 

III. Speech Quality 82 

IV. Speech Rhythm 159 

V. Speech Dynamics 241 

CONCLUSION 306 

INDEX TO AUTHORS 309 

INDEX TO SELECTIONS 311 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 



INTRODUCTION 

Two main purposes. Two main purposes may control 
in the study of any phase of public speaking. It may be 
studied from the standpoint of general culture, or from 
the narrower standpoint of a vocation. It may form one 
of the courses in a curriculum designed to arouse an ap- 
preciation of the noblest productions in all forms of art 
and science, or it may appear as a course in a technical 
institution with the sole purpose of securing skill in a 
practitioner whose success in his vocation is more or less 
dependent upon a developed talent in public speaking. 

The primary purpose. But whatever the ultimate end 
in view, the first step in the study of a particular phase 
of public speaking should be for the purpose of culture. 
Lack of a broad, sympathetic appreciation of the world of 
science, art, and religion will operate as a serious check 
in the development of a good speaker. This fact is largely 
lost sight of by the student of the art. He demands voca- 
tional work at once. His general attitude towards the 
subject causes him to wait until he is facing a definite prob- 
lem, e.g. he is assigned some part in a literary program, 
elected to appear in a public debate, or invited to respond 
to a toast at a banquet, when, as he too frequently thinks, 
a few hours of training is all that is necessary. In the 



2 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

hands of a thorough and conscientious teacher he learns, 
to his amazement, not only that he lacks the cultural basis 
for proper presentation, but also that he fails in many other 
important respects: that his knowledge of the English 
language is totally inadequate ; that he is incapable of pro- 
nouncing many of the commonest English words with any 
degree of accuracy; that his enunciation is so faulty that 
an audience cannot understand what he says ; and, finally, 
that the very means of expression, his voice and action, 
are entirely unfitted to convey his thought. 

Taste cultivation. Taste, then, must be stimulated as 
the initial act in the evolution of a public speaker. With 
this end in view a great help will be found in the study of 
literature with reference to its vocal interpretation. Here 
are recorded the ideals of the best men and women of all 
time. The mind of the embryo speaker must be steeped in 
the rich literary expression of the strong life of humanity. 
He must joy in the epic simplicity of Homer, the lyric 
intensity of Tennyson, the dramatic movement of Shake- 
speare, and the oratoric glow of Demosthenes. While 
growing into this assimilative relation, at best a long and 
evolutionary process, the learner is acquiring a technical 
power which must prove a help from a vocational view- 
point; but culture, not skill, is the end sought. 

A danger. One danger, at least, arises in such study. 
The student is apt to prepare himself for vocal interpretative 
work from a scientific rather than from an artistic standpoint. 
That is, a philological and minutely critical study of the 
text may be made, which may lead to a stimulation of the 
intellect alone, or actually crowd out a possible artistic ap- 
preciation of the selection studied. Such study may even 
make it distasteful to the reader. Under the guidance of 



INTRODUCTION 3 

a teacher unsympathetic with the real needs of a learner 
even Shakespeare may become loathsome to him. This is 
a real danger. 

The scientific, minute study of Shakespeare, the use of his plays 
for grammatical analysis, philological investigation, historical research, 
— as now common in the high school, — belongs only to the last 
years of the college and to the graduate school. The proper study 
of Shakespeare in the high school is to feel ': to read Shakespeare, 
see Shakespeare, play Shakespeare. This might awaken love. It 
must certainly result, in the high school, in a truer, broader acquaint- 
ance ; in the college, in a truer, sounder criticism ; on the stage, in 
a truer and more frequent presentation. 1 

A second danger. Another danger is possible in cul- 
tural study ; the student, while learning to appreciate, may 
fail to acquire the technical power to present in adequate 
form the material which taste has learned to approve. 
The high estimate of the merit of a dainty sonnet or vig- 
orous ballad is no guaranty of its adequate expression 
through voice and action. A certain amount of skill of a 
technical sort must be acquired, and the fundamental emo- 
tion of the true artist must be awakened. The culture 
process must arouse the mind, kindle the imagination, 
awaken the dramatic instinct, — secure more or less re- 
sponse from the whole being. There must be present a 
genuine play-instinct. The student must enjoy speaking, 
abandon himself with gladness to vocal expression, not 
blindly and riotously but with a love of play such as the 
child feels, spontaneous, free, and genuine. " What, get 
up and play before an audience ? ' ' Yes ! Why not ? Ex- 
cept you become as a little child you are shut out from 
every worthy kingdom, and most of all the kingdom of art. 

1 Parsons, in Atlantic Monthly, April, 1906. 



4 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

The artistic spirit. How shall this spirit of joy in action 
be acquired ? The usual reply to this question is, Dh, just 
be natural ! Here is a liability to much trouble. Not one 
student in a thousand can follow this worn-out maxim and 
be right. Man is a bundle of habits, and in vocal and pan- 
tomimic expression most habits are bad. To be natural 
is, in most cases, to be habitual and so probably wrong. 
Training, the effort to secure good habits and normal 
action, daily and unremitted, is the price which must be 
paid for naturalness. This thought has been well summed 
up by Professor Genung in these words : " Art at its 
highest and nature at its truest are one." 

Summary. The culture process, then, must seek to 
arouse a joyful appreciation. This appreciation cannot 
reach its flood tide except through normal conditions in 
voice and action. The whole body is the vocal instrument. 
All its powers must be organized under the centralizing 
control of a mind ambitious to give a service to the world, 
the vital motive of which shall be a joyous appreciation. 

The vocational process. With this end partially or fully 
attained the learner may proceed to vocational work. He 
may desire to teach public speaking or wish to enter some 
profession where speaking is essential, or he may look for- 
ward to a career upon the platform as a lecturer, or reader. 
As already pointed out, the work of such a student should 
be controlled by the purpose to cultivate taste and train all 
the faculties for service under its guidance. Without this 
the work is almost futile. With it vocational work be- 
comes a matter largely of practice. Practice does not 
make perfect, but thorough, conscientious practice tends 
toward perfection. The student must have an audience 
upon which to exercise his talents. If he is to be a lawyer, 



INTRODUCTION 5 

he must work out the problem of the address to the jury 
and the judge. He is likely to be called into politics, and 
so must study the problems of the political harangue, the 
legislative debate, and the after-dinner speech. He may 
look forward to the teaching profession, where he may be 
called upon to conduct institutes, lecture at Chautauqua 
assemblies, or engage in university extension work. So 
with each vocation specific practice is needed. Clinics, so 
to speak, must be opened, where the learner may gain 
proficiency in operating. 

Dangers. There are dangers, already pointed out, in 
the culture process. These dangers are greatly enhanced 
in the vocational process. To repeat, the student who 
approaches such work without gaining the development 
through culture is bound to fail, or at best to attain but a 
partial success. By the very nature of the case his work 
cannot be otherwise than superficial. Before an intelli- 
gent audience exterior polish, however good, only serves 
to render more conspicuous interior dullness. The man 
without taste but possessed of skill is liable to be a blind 
leader of the blind. Taste, appreciation, capacity to adjust 
himself to any environment — all are essential to the guid- 
ance of skill. A cultivated taste is the open-eyed condition 
of the mind. 

The adjustment to audience. Public speaking is a social 
function ; a direct relation exists between the speaker and 
his audience. As the life of the body .depends upon its 
power to adjust itself to the circumstances of life, so the 
life of speaking depends upon the power of the speaker to 
adjust himself to the varying needs of his audiences. He 
must be able to play upon the lyrical and intuitive nature of 
woman, the logical and oratoric nature of man ; and if he 



6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

has not culture, either as a result of deliberate training or 
otherwise, his playing is liable to produce nothing but dis- 
cords. The speaker who fails of harmonic adjustment dies. 
He may go on speaking, more 's the pity, but there is some 
hope that his discordant utterances will eventually compel 
his retirement from the public platform. When the reader 
is a really beautiful young woman, whose every motion is 
graceful and whose voice is sweet music, this danger be- 
comes more subtle. , The unthinking may applaud ; the 
judicious will grieve. The greater her success, the more 
is true art retarded, until people of culture cry out, " Can 
any good come out of the study of public speaking ? " 
Here, then, are two dangers from purely vocational work : 
the one for the student himself, that success without culture 
will mislead by effacing the highest ideal ; and the second, 
that the whole subject will be brought into contempt. Then 
let the student enter upon the study of public speaking 
with a realization that it is a serious, lifelong business ; 
that matter is more important than manner, taste than 
skill ; that culture must precede calling ; and that mind 
determines both manner and calling. The student has no 
call to speak to the universe until the universe has spoken 
to him. 

Method. Experience has shown that as far as possible 
the student should learn by what may be called the labo- 
ratory method. He should have definite problems, the 
solution of which will demand serious consideration. There 
should be at least one piece of intensive work in connec- 
tion with any course undertaken. 

The inductive process. Success in acquiring power is 
best attained through the inductive process. Give the 
student a specific piece of work and by the process of 



INTRODUCTION 7 

discovery through his own presentation in vocal expression 
let him reach the laws of good form in speaking. Coaching 
is liable to defeat itself and is a confession of weakness, 
a lack of culture in the one coached. 

Summary. The two main purposes in the study of 
any phase of public speaking or reading are cultural and 
vocational. The former is primary. In the cultural process 
of acquiring a knowledge of the subject, taste, not skill, is 
the objective point ; and yet voice and action, the media 
of mind expression, must become normal that the utterance 
may become natural. In the secondary process the voca- 
tional, actual practice involving the problems of specific 
vocations is fundamental, for skill is now the objective 
point. The process of work, whether cultural or vocational, 
should be evolutionary. The student should learn the laws 
underlying good work in public speaking by the inductive 
method of study. He should be so instructed that he will 
realize that learning to speak is primarily learning to think 
and feel. 

Method suggested. It is not possible to prescribe a 
method of culture in vocal expression which will be com- 
pletely adapted to the needs of all teachers and all pupils. 
The method suggested, however, has been tested by long 
use in the college classroom and has proved to be the 
most nearly ideal of the many which have been tried. This 
course is given for two hours a week throughout the year. 
The main purpose of the plan here advocated is to give 
the student a definite problem which may tax his powers 
to the proper limit. 

The lecture recital. The student is required to prepare 
a lecture recital. In length it should be proportional to the 
time limit of the recitation hour so that at least two lectures 



8 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

may be given within that period. The selections from the 
author, book, poem, or whatever is the subject of the recital, 
should be given memoriter. Remarks such as introductory 
account of the author's life, method of writing, nature of 
work, etc. should be given extempore. The subject may 
be selected early in the course, so that the student may use 
the selections in connection with class work for special 
criticism. The lecture recitals can best be given near the 
end of the course. The members of the class not lecturing 
may be required to hand in written criticisms of these per- 
formances. The best of the recitals may be used for a 
series of public evening recitals. 

Available subjects. A list of authors available for this 
work is herewith submitted. The student is advised to 
select an author who will furnish the greatest possible 
variety in the forms of literature to be studied. It is not, 
however, a bad plan to make an intensive study of some 
masterpiece, but such work is more difficult and is suitable 
only for the more advanced students. 

The following list of authors contains certain initial 
letters which are to be interpreted as follows : D., drama- 
tist ; E., essayist ; O., orator ; P., poet ; S., story-writer. 



Addison. — E. P. 
Aldrich. — P. 
Ames. — O. 
Arnold, M. — E. P. 
Barrie, J. — S. 
Beecher. — O. 
Bossuet. — O. 
Brooks. — O. 
Brougham. — O. 
Brown, A. — S. 
Browning, E. B. — P. 



Browning, R. — P. 
Bryant, W. C. — P. 
Burke. — O. 
Calhoun. — O. 
Canning. — O. 
Carlyle. — E. 
Channing. — O. 
Chatham. — O. 
Chaucer. — P. 
Choate. — O. 
Cicero. — O. E. 



Clay. — O. 
Clough, A. H. — 
Cooper. — S. 
Cowper. — P. 
Curran. — O. 
Dante. — P. 
Demosthenes. — ' 
Dickens. — S. 
Disraeli. — S. O. 
Dobson. — P, 
Dryden. — P. 



INTRODUCTION 



Dumas. — D. S. 
Eliot. — E. S. 
Emerson. — E. P. 
Erskine. — O. 
Everett. — O. 
Field, E. — P. 
Fielding. — S. 
Fox. — O. 
Franklin. — E. 
Gladstone. — O. 
Goethe. — P. D. 
Goldsmith. — P. S.D. 
Grady. — O. 
Grattan. — O. 
Gray. — P. 
Hale. — E. S. 
Hamilton. — E. O. 
Hawthorne. — S. 
Hayne. — O. 
Henry. — O. 
Herbert. — P. 
Holmes. — P. E. S. 
Homer. — P. 
Hood. — P. 
Howells. — S.D.E. 
Hughes. — P. E. 
Hugo. — P. E. S. 
Ingelow. — P. 
Ingersoll. — O. 
Irving. — S. 



Jackson. — P. S. 
Junius. — E. 
Keats. — P. 
Kipling. — P. S. 
Knowles. — D. 
Lamb. — E. 
Lanier. — P. E. 
Lincoln. — O. 
Longfellow. — P. 
Lover. — S. 
Lowell. — P. 
Ly tton (Bulwer). ■ — S . 
Macaulay. — E 
Macdonald. — S. 
McLatren. — O. S. 
Marlowe. — D. 
Milton. — P. 
Mirabeau. — O. 
Moore. ■ — P. 
Morris. — P. E. 
O'Connell — O. 
Parker. — S. 
Patmore. — P. 
Paul — O. E. 
Phillips. — O. 
Poe. — P. S. 
Pope. — P. S. 
Prentiss. — D. 
Reade. — S. 
Richter. — S. P. 



Riley. _ P. 
Rossetti, C. — P. 
Rossetti, D. — P. 
Rousseau. — P. 
Savonarola. — O. 
Schiller. — P. 
Scott. — P. S. 
Seward. — O. 
Shaftesbury. — O. 
Shakespeare. — P. D. 
Sheridan. — O. D. 
Sill. — P. 
Southey. — P. 
Spenser. — P. 
Stevenson. — P. S. 
Stockton. — S. 
Stowe. — S. 
Sumner. — O. 
Swinburne. — P. 
Taylor. — P. E. 
Tennyson. — P. 
Thackeray. — S. 
Trollope. — S. 
Trowbridge. — S. P. 
Twain. — S. 
Webster. — O. 
Whitman. — P. 
Whittier. — P. 



Theory and practice. As already pointed out, the in- 
ductive process should be followed, or, in other words, 
theory should not precede practice. Begin the study of 
each phase of vocal expression with the reading of specific 
selections. The amount of theory w T hich the student is re- 
quired to master must depend upon the individual student. 



IO VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Correct breathing. 1 Each department of vocal expres- 
sion makes both general and special demands in vocal 
training. The complete control of the specific organs of 
speech under a proper organization of the same is an essen- 
tial and preliminary step. Any careful study of the healthy 
child in sleep will reveal the fact that the centering of the 
action in breathing makes the diaphragm the master of 
the situation. To give free play to the action of this im- 
portant muscle there must be no serious restriction at the 
waist by clothing or otherwise. The diaphragm lies imme- 
diately below the lungs, and in contracting pushes the 
organs beneath downward. This downward pressure is 
converted into a lateral forward pressure by the restrictive 
action of the hip and back bones and appears as a slight 
and general expansion extending from the hips to the 
sternum or breastbone. 

The test of correct breathing. This correct action in 
breathing may be easily tested. Place one hand just be- 
neath the sternum and the other upon the " small of the 
back." If the action in breathing is normal, there will be 
an expansive movement due to the contraction of the dia- 
phragm. It will be stronger in front. To test the move- 
ment still further (throwing the voice to a distance), call, 
with considerable volume of tone, the name " John ! " Be- 
fore uttering the word take a deep, full breath, bringing 
into action the great breathing muscle. Then when the 
muscle is thoroughly contracted and giving the lungs a 
strong support, utter the word. If the work is correctly 
done, an outward pressure, both before and behind, will be 
distinctly felt. 

1 Read " Voice, Song, and Speech," by Lennox Browne and Emil 
Behnke. 



INTRODUCTION II 

With this free, natural action* of the diaphragm thor- 
oughly developed a great physical step has been taken, 
which means ultimately, under persistent and correct prac- 
tice, a complete control of the voice. But frequently pupils 
are found whose habits of speech are so bad that the at- 
tainment of this step in vocal control is insufficient. Where 
the action is not centered beneath the lungs, it is usually 
so distributed that there is considerable movement above 
the lungs. Some of this is essential, — the movement of 
the vocal bands, the action of the tongue in forming 
sounds, the opening and shutting of the mouth, etc. ; but 
frequently, so far as the jaw and tongue are concerned, 
these actions are so done that there is much restriction, 
which prevents pure tone and correct touch. With the 
center of power at the diaphragm this restrictive action 
may be lessened, but generally some specific attention must 
be paid to the movement of the jaw and tongue. 

For example, in making the vowel e the tongue is lifted 
and placed high in the mouth. If the mouth is kept 
almost shut, the tongue will be nearly in place for this 
action. Hence, in general, the mouth is kept nearly closed 
in forming this sound. When a loud utterance of this let- 
ter is demanded, much of the sound will be forced through 
the nose and this vowel will have a nasal quality. Such 
bad habits as these may be only partially corrected by the 
cultivation of correct breathing. 

To test whether the action of the jaw and tongue is 
correct, use the sound which under normal conditions will 
be made when these organs are completely relaxed. It is 
called the " Italian a." It is marked a. This is the first 
sound of human language and forms the basis of the 
words "pa," "ma," which are used to designate the names of 



12 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

parents. Let the jaw completely relax ; feel the weight of 
the tongue lying lazily in the mouth ; and, having taken a 
deep breath, utter the sound a a. If the muscles imme- 
diately beneath the jaw show contraction, i.e. if the tongue 
moves at all, then the action is faulty. 

In every other vowel sound the tongue moves somewhat, 
but it should perform its functions with as little action as 
possible (never closing the passage to the throat), and the 
jaw should always be relaxed. To utter correctly the letter 
e, then, relax the jaw as though the sound a were going to 
be uttered, and the discovery may follow that the jaw and 
tongue are both lazy and relaxed. 

The nature of the vocal programs. -It follows that 
the programs for vocal training offered in this book 
will seek first, a general development, by centering the 
breath at the diaphragm and by freeing the action of 
the direct organs of speech ; and second, specific action 
to secure range in speech melody, resonance in speech 
quality, agility in speech rhythm, and power in speech 
dynamics. 

Program for breath control, i. Practice the breath- 
ing exercises as suggested above. Do not overdo the 
matter. Always vary the program with the use of joyous, 
lyrical, emotional lines, like 

Hurrah ! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin. 

Remember that every exercise in speaking is an exercise 
for the cultivation of the breathing powers. 

2. Learn the principal vowel sounds as given in Web- 
ster's International Dictionary or any other standard. 
The following will be sufficient : 






INTRODUCTION 13 



a, a, a, 

e, e, 



u, u, 00 (repeated for rhythmic effect), 
ou, oi. 

Several exercises may be made from these sounds : 

a. Let them be given with a strong falling inflection. 
Note that the breathing is correctly done ; it must be deep 
and full. After the breath is taken it should be sustained 
during the utterance. If the utterance is powerful and 
explosive in nature there will be a slight outward pressure 
at the waist, as already pointed out. When the sound or 
word has been uttered, let there be a complete release of 
the breath — a thorough relaxation of the diaphragm — 
and a new breath taken for the second sound, etc. 

b. Give the sounds again with a rising inflection. Let 
the power come from below the lungs, not from above. Re- 
member that no muscle grows in strength except by use. 
Exercise the diaphragm just .as you would any other muscle. 
Help will come from the application of the imagination to 
the work in hand. Think beautiful sounds, rich harmonies, 
and noble aspirations. 

c. Give the sounds slowly, with one breath for all and 
on one pitch. In other words, chant them, solemnly and 
beautifully, in that part of the range of your voice where 
such action comes most easily. 

3 . Use a series of dramatic words, exclaimed with more 
or less explosive action, like 

Well, well ! Hold ! Ha, ha ! Ho, ho ! Victory is won ! Hark ! 

Such exercises should be multiplied with as much variety 
as possible in the vowel sound. For a good test as to 



14 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

whether the vocal control is improving, the following 
might occasionally be used : 

Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast you 
pass that point ! Up with the helm ! Now turn ! Pull hard ! Quick ! 
quick ! quick ! pull for your lives ! pull till the blood starts from your 
nostrils, and the veins stand like whipcords upon your brow. Set the 
mast in the socket ! hoist the sail ! Ah, ah ! it is too late ! Shrieking, 
cursing, howling, blaspheming, over they go ! — Gough 

For further tests use the following exercises under 
speech melody: numbers 22, 23, 24, 31, 32, 33, 34, and 36. 



CHAPTER I 

ESSENTIALS IN VOCAL EXPRESSION 

I. Fundamentals 

The beginnings of public speaking. If we should trace 
back to their beginnings all arts which employ the human 
voice — acting, singing, speaking, literature (before writ- 
ing) — we should in all probability arrive at one and the 
same point, namely, a communal performance of some 
sort, a vocal utterance in connection with a communal 
dance or a piece of communal work. In the dance suc- 
cess in war, in the chase, or in the harvest found utterance 
physically and psychically. In work the rhythmic unity 
of communal action may have furnished an exhilara- 
tion for rapid and continued action. The community at 
play united in a dance movement, controlled by the 
rhythmic life of the body, while they sang crude songs 
and acted out in a representative way the scenes celebrated. 

At first the songs were, perchance, but vague sounds. 
Then gradually a few words, repeated over and over again, 
were used. These words responded in rhythmic move- 
ment to the action of the body. Thus, perhaps, poetry 
was born. 

It is interesting in this connection to see how differently 
this same matter may be handled by different authors. 
Professor F. B. Gummere, in his " Beginnings of Poetry," 
puts it in this way (he is speaking of "Rhythm as the 
Essential Fact of Poetry") : 



l6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

It is not hard to follow so plain a hint as one finds in the ethno- 
logical evidence ; the actual habit of individual composition and per- 
formance has sprung from choral composition and performance. An 
entertainer and audience, an artist and a public, take for granted 
preceding social conditions ; and it is generally admitted that social 
conditions begin with the festal dance as well as with communal 
labor. Where and when the individual recitative became a thing of 
prominence, as it undoubtedly did, is a matter to be studied in the 
individual and centrifugal impulse, in the progress of the poet: 
hence it is enough to show that rhythmic verse came directly from 
the choral song, and that neither the choral song, nor any regular 
song, could have come from the recitative. They need a developed 
stage of speech when the logical sentence has shaken itself free, to 
some extent, of mere emotional cadence and of almost meaningless 
repetitions. Here indeed begin the orator, the teller of tales, the 
artistic poet; but dance, song, and poetry itself begin with a com- 
munal consent, which is expressed by the most exact rhythm. 

Mr. H. B. Alexander dissents somewhat from the 
above in his work, " Poetry and the Individual." Where 
he is speaking of the ( ' Evolution of the Poetic Spirit," 
he says : 

The characteristics of this early consciousness are apparent : first, 
interest absorbed by the immediate object of attention ; second, com- 
munal inspired expression. But in the instances cited — cooperative 
labor and the dance — we are in the presence of some advancement 
in social evolution. Song could hardly have been brought forth 
from chance congregations of paleolithic savages except the' instinct 
and need for it already existed in the individual. We must conceive 
a leader of the primeval chorus. All the bright day he follows the 
chase. He sees a haughty roebuck startled in the glade. It leaps 
away in terror, the bough-filtered light of the sun flecking the satiny 
haunches. The buck ! The bounding buck ! He hurls his flint- 
pointed dart, and turning away with his prize, he fashions a little 
song celebrating the one event that has made his day worth living : 
" O the buck ! The bounding buck ! " And at night beside the 
feast-fire, he repeats it till all take up the chorus. 



ESSENTIALS IN VOCAL EXPRESSION \J 

Whichever view of this matter is taken, it is fair to 
assume that in the communal performance, at play or at 
toil, and more probably the former, may be found the 
protoplasmic material out of which has sprung every phase 
of public speaking. In the social evolution of the com- 
munity the individual singer, actor, dancer, or worker 
more and more performed solo for the admiration or in- 
formation of his fellows, and they may have joined in a 
choral response. A further evolution would lead to a seg- 
regation in art, and speaking, singing, acting, and dancing 
would each become a separate art. This highly probable 
process in the development of public speaking should be 
kept in mind in the study of every phase of the subject, 
for it may help to furnish some explanation of its present 
condition. It should be kept in mind, then, in the study 
of vocal expression with which this treatise is chiefly 
concerned. 

The nature of vocal expression. From an elementary 
standpoint, vocal expression in speech is the manifestation 
of mind through matter where matter is the human voice. 
Failures in public speaking among young people are gen- 
erally due to a lack of a strong, well-equipped, fertile mind. 
The first test of every speaker is a mind test, — is he 
a man of "brains " ? Success, then, in vocal expression 
will depend upon the mind behind it, the intellectual 
force. But complete success waits upon an accomplish- 
ment which rarely appears divorced from a well-equipped 
mind, and rarely appears in connection with it except 
where there has been careful training, — a good deliver} 7 . 
Right mind, then, is primary ; right voice is final where 
vocal expression is concerned. So cultivation of mind and 
voice must usually go hand in hand in the mastery of 



1 8 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

vocal expression. tc Thought without action is dead," says 
the psychologist. In vocal expression thought must seek 
an outlet through voice, which thus becomes an object of 
study. In fact, some study of it, if rightly conducted, will 
assist in its cultivation. 

The medium of vocal expression. The human voice, 
the medium of vocal expression, is a form of sound. The 
principal material in which an art works must determine, 
in a large measure, the character of the art. The art of 
vocal expression depends upon a specific sound, the human 
voice, for its nature. It follows, then, that in the elemen- 
tary qualities and attributes of sound a basis may be found 
for the study of vocal expression. 

Sound as a sensation. Sound in its most elementary 
form is a sensation. This is excited by the vibration of 
bodies external to the brain. This vibratory motion is 
communicated to the brain through the organ of hearing. 
Every sensation, whether of seeing, hearing, or what not, 
must have certain attributes which serve to awaken con- 
sciousness and give it definite character : (i) There must 
be something about every sensation which will distinguish 
it in kind from every other sensation ; (2) a sensation must 
continue long enough to be recognized ; (3) a sensation 
must be strong enough, must have a sufficiently high 
degree of intensity, to identify it. For example, a sound 
sensation must have (1) pitch, which serves to give it 
definite form and character ; (2) it must continue long 
enough to be recognized ; (3) it must have sufficient loud- 
ness to be heard. Without these three attributes a sensa- 
tion would fail to be identified and distinguished ; that is, 
there would be no sensation. Vocal expression then, from 
the very nature of the human voice and the method by 



ESSENTIALS IN VOCAL EXPRESSION 19 

which sound is communicated, will be characterized by 
changes in pitch, time, and intensity. 

The nature of pitch. Pitch may be said to affect sound 
in two ways : (1) there is a fundamental tone which ap- 
peals most strongly to the ear and acts as the determining 
pitch ; (2) this is always a composite tone due to resonance. 
A sound of one pitch is never heard. The ear of the 
untrained listener may not note any but the pitch of the 
fundamental tone. But every sound-producing body is 
resonant. Resonance is the sympathetic vibration of bodies 
which respond to a given sound. The parts of the sound- 
producing instrument may respond. Resonant bodies near 
at hand may do the same, and these responses reenforce 
the original sound with tones of varying pitches and inten- 
sities, some higher than the original or fundamental tone. 
This blended tone (which in its component parts appeals 
only to the trained ear), with its fundamental and its higher 
tones, or overtones, is the composite which gives what is 
called quality to the voice. 

Departments of vocal expression. Apply now these 
facts to vocal expression and there are possibly four de- 
partments : ( 1 ) speech melody, which is due to the variety 
of the fundamental pitches of the tones of the voice in 
utterance ; (2) speech quality, which is due to the com- 
binations of tones of varying pitches and intensities ; (3) 
speech rhythm, which is due to the variation of the 
element of time in the vocal utterance ; and (4) speech 
dynamics, which is due to the varying intensity of speech 
sounds. These divisions are based upon the mechanical 
nature of sound, and correspond, respectively, to similar 
departments in music. The study of vocal expression, as 
outlined in this treatise, is founded upon these divisions. 



20 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

II. Vocal Program 

Speech melody, i . With relaxed throat, jaw, and tongue 
utter the sound a, (i) with a rising inflection as though 
in the climax of a joyous ^surprise. Breathe deeply but 
easily and let the tone be well sustained. (2) Utter the 
sound with a falling inflection as though in the climax of 
a joyous approval and satisfaction. These are among the 
most helpful exercises for vocal development. (3) Vary 
the pitch of the sound, gradually extending the range 
of utterance, always keeping close to the point where the 
tone is easily made. 

2. With conditions the same as in the previous exer- 
cises, practice exclamations of a dramatic nature. Use the 
word " come," and give it with varying degrees of emotion 
and with varying emotions. Give it in the different parts 
of the range of the voice. 

3. Give sentences, as, "Come here; no, go there!" 
noting the constant change in pitch on each sound and 
between sounds, and the contrasts in pitches. 

4. With varying pitches as indicated utter the vowel 
sounds : 



This exercise will help students to realize the fact of 
speech melody. 

5. Use some sentence to show how the meaning will 
vary with the form, as : 



ESSENTIALS IN VOCAL EXPRESSION 21 

6. Let the student bring sentences properly diagramed 
to represent in a rough way the logical thought of the 
selection, somewhat as indicated here : 

Saratoga is won ! 



In the same manner let the student diagram and hand in 
the following : 

We charge him with having broken his coronation oath ; 



and we are told that he kept his marriage i 



By making each line contain but a single phrase the 
student will learn not only the melody of the thought but 
something of its rhythm. 

In the same manner let the student diagram the follow- 
ing exercises in speech melody: numbers 3, 6, 11, 14, 
21, 28, and 32. 



CHAPTER II 

SPEECH MELODY 
I. Practical Exercises 

i . " Freedom ! " their battle-cry. — Boker 

2. Saratoga is won ! — Lippard 

3. Give us, O give us, the man who sings at his work! — Carlyle 

4. So long as we love we serve. So long as we are loved by 
others I would almost say we are indispensable ; and no man is 
useless while he has a friend. — Stevenson 

5. I would still with the last impulse of that soul, with the last 
gasp of that voice, implore you to remember this truth : God has 
given America to be free ! — Lippard 

6. My lords, what is it that we want here to a great act of national 
justice ? Do we want a cause, my lords ? You have the cause of 
oppressed princes, of desolated provinces, and of wasted kingdoms. 

Burke 

7. The soul of all genius is to be man : if one be great, one 
cannot fail to speak, act, write, paint, live greatly. — Griggs 

8. " Charge ! " trump and drum awoke ; onward the bondman 
broke ; bayonet and sabre stroke vainly opposed their rush ! 

Boker 

9. Resolve ! 
To keep my health ! 
To do my work ! 
To live ! 

To see to it that I grow and gain and give ! 
Never to look behind me for an hour ! 



SPEECH MELODY 23 

To wait in weakness and to walk in power ; 
But always fronting onward to the light. 
Always and always facing toward the right. 
Robbed, starved, defeated, wide astray — 
On, with what strength I have ! 
Back to the way ! 

10. Masterpieces are surprisingly rare, yet when they come, how 
simple and inevitable they seem to be ! It then seems as if all other 
workers had blindly thwarted their own efforts, while the master 
simply lent himself actively and freely to the forces of life and nature 
which found exalted and spontaneous expression through him. 

Griggs 

11. Remember March, the ides of March remember: 
Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? 

Shakespeare 

12. Shall we gather strength by irresolution and inaction? Shall 
we acquire the means of effectual resistance by lying supinely on our 
backs, and hugging the delusive phantom of hope, until our enemies 
shall have bound us hand and foot? — Patrick Henry 

13. Four men stood before God at the end of The First Week, 
watching Him whirl His little globe. The first man said to Him, 
"Tell me how you did it." The second man said, "What is it for?" 
The third man said, " Let me have it." The fourth man said nothing, 
and fell down and worshipped. Having worshipped, he rose to his 
feet and made a world himself. These four men have been known 
in history as the Scientist, the Philosopher, the Man of Affairs, and 
the Artist. — G. S. Lee. Copyright, B. W. Huebsch, Publisher 

14. "To arms! they come! the Greek! the Greek! " 

Halleck 

15. My heart is awed within me, when I think 
Of the great miracle that still goes on, 

In silence, round me, — the perpetual work 
Of thy creation, finish'd, yet renew'd forever. 



24 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

1 6. Sea-king's daughter from over the sea, Alexandra ! 
Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, 

But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra ! 
Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet ! 
Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street ! 
Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet, 
Scatter the blossoms under her feet ! 
Break, happy land, into earlier flowers ! 
Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers ! 
Blazon your mottoes of blessing and prayer ! 
Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours ! 
Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare ! 
Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers ! 
Flames, on the windy headland, flare ! 
Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire ! 
Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air ! 
Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire ! 
Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher 
Melt into stars for the land's desire ! 
Roll and rejoice, jubilant voice, 
Roll as a ground-swell dash'd on the strand, 
Roar as the sea when he welcomes the land, 
And welcome her, welcome the land's desire, 
The sea-king's daughter as happy as fair, 
Blissful bride of a blissful heir, 
Bride of the heir of the kings of the sea — 
O joy to the people and joy to the throne, 
Come to us, love us and make us your own : 
For Saxon or Dane or Norman we, 
Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be, 

We are each all Dane in our welcome of thee, Alexandra ! 

Tennyson 

17. Men of Israel, and ye that fear God, give audience. The 
God of this people of Israel chose our fathers, and exalted the 
people when they dwelt as strangers in the land of Egypt, and 
with an high arm brought he them out of it. And about the time of 
forty years suffered he their manners in the wilderness. And when 



SPEECH MELODY 25 

he had destroyed seven nations in the land of Chanaan, he divided 
their land to them by lot. And after that he gave unto them judges 
about the space of four hundred and fifty years, until Samuel the 
prophet. And afterward they desired a king : and God gave unto 
them Saul the son of Cis, a man of the tribe of Benjamin, by the 
space of forty years. And when he had removed him, he raised up 
unto them David to be their king ; to whom also he gave testimony, 
and said, I have found David the son of Jesse, a man after mine own 
heart, which shall fulfil all my will. Of this man's seed hath God, 
according to his promise, raised unto Israel a Saviour, Jesus : when 
John had first preached before his coming the baptism of repentance 
to all the people of Israel. And as John fulfilled his course, he said, 
Whom think ye that I am ? I am not he. But, behold, there cometh 
one after me, whose shoes of his feet I am not worthy to loose. 

Men and brethren, children of the stock of Abraham, and whoso- 
ever among you feareth God, to you is the word of this salvation 
sent. For they that dwell at Jerusalem, and their rulers, because 
they knew him not, nor yet the voices of the prophets which are 
read every Sabbath day, they have fulfilled them in condemning 
him. And though they found no cause of death in him, yet desired 
they Pilate that he should be slain. And when they had fulfilled all 
that was written of him, they took him down from the tree, and laid 
him in a sepulchre. But God raised him from the dead : And he 
was seen many days of them which came up with him from Galilee 
to Jerusalem, who are his witnesses unto the people. And we declare 
unto you glad tidings, how that the promise which was made unto 
the fathers, God hath fulfilled the same unto us their children, in 
that he hath raised up Jesus again ; as it is also written in the second 
psalm, Thou art my Son, this day have I begotten thee. And as 
concerning that he raised him up from the dead, now no more to 
return to corruption, he said on this wise, I will give you the sure 
mercies of David. Wherefore he saith also in another psalm, Thou 
shalt not suffer thine Holy One to see corruption. For David, after 
he had served his own generation by the will of God, fell on sleep, 
and was laid unto his fathers, and saw corruption : But he, whom 
God raised again, saw no corruption. 

Be it known unto you therefore, men and brethren, that through 
this man is preached unto you the forgiveness of sins : And by him 



26 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

all that believe are justified from all things, from which ye could not 
be justified by the law of Moses. Beware therefore, lest that come 
upon you, which is spoken by the prophets ; Behold, ye despisers, 
and wonder, and perish : For I work a work in your days, a work 
which ye shall in no wise believe, though a man declare it unto you. 

Acts xiii, 16-41 

18. Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, 
Arrives the snow ; and, driving o'er the fields 
Seems nowhere to alight ; the whited air 

Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, 
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end. 
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet 
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit 
Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed 
In a tumultuous privacy of storm. — Emerson 

19. Language! — the blood of the soul, Sir! into which our 
thoughts run and out of which they grow ! We know what a word 
is worth here in Boston. Young Sam Adams got up on the stage 
at Commencement out at Cambridge there, with his gown on, the 
governor looking on in the name of his Majesty, King George the 
Second, and the girls looking down out of the galleries, and taught 
the people how to spell a word that was n't in the colonial diction- 
aries ! R-e, re, s-i-s, sis, t-a-n-c-e, tance, resistance ! That was in 
'43, and it was a good many years before the Boston boys began 
spelling it with their muskets ; — but when they did begin, they spelt 
it so loud that the old bedridden women in the English almshouses 
heard every syllable ! — Holmes 

20. When a great man falls, the nation mourns ; when a patriarch 
is removed, the people weep. Ours is no common bereavement. 
The chain which linked our hearts with the gifted spirits of former 
times has been suddenly snapped. The lips from which flowed those 
living and glorious truths that our fathers uttered are closed in death. 
Yes, Death has been among us. He has not entered the humble 
cottage of some unknown and ignoble peasant : he has knocked 
audibly at the palace of a nation ! His footstep has been heard in 
the halls of state ! He has cloven down his victim in the midst of 



SPEECH MELODY 27 

the councils of the people. He has borne in triumph from among 
you the gravest, wisest, most reverend head. Ah! he has taken him 
as a trophy who was once chief over many statesmen, adorned with 
virtue, and learning, and truth ; he has borne at his chariot wheels 
a renowned one of earth. — I. C. Holmes 

2 1 . The Spring — she is a blessed thing ! 

She is the mother of the flowers ! 
She is mate of birds and bees, 
The partner of their reveries, 

Our star of hope through wintry hours. 

Mary Howitt 

22. Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy 

Shepherd-boy ! Wordsworth 

23. Thou art, and wert, and shalt be ! Glorious! Great! 
Light-giving, life-sustaining Potentate! 

24. Come dance, elfins, dance ! for my harp is in tune, 
The wave-rocking gales are all lulled to repose. 

25. Lovely art thou, O peace ! and lovely are thy children, and 
lovely are the prints of thy footsteps in the green valleys. 

26. Out of the North the wild news came, 
Far flashing on its wings of flame, 
Swift as the boreal light which flies 
At midnight through the startled skies. 
And there was tumult in the air, 

The fife's shrill note, the drum's loud beat, 

And through the wide land everywhere 

The answering tread of hurrying feet. — Read 

27. He knew to bide his time, 

And can his fame abide, 
Still patient in his simple faith sublime, 

Till the wise years decide. 
Great captains, with their guns and drums. 

Disturb our judgment for the hour, 



28 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

But at last silence comes ! 

These all are gone, and, standing like a tower, 
Our children shall behold his fame, 

The kindly-earnest, brave, foreseeing man, 
Sagacious, patient, dreading praise, not blame, 

New birth of our new soil, the first American. 

Lowell 

28. What 's the matter ? 

What 's the matter ! here be four of us have taken a thousand 
pounds. 

Where is it, Jack ? where is it ? 

Where is it ? taken from us it is. — Shakespeare 

29. Father, give me the portion of goods that falleth to me. 

Luke xv, 12 

30. Give it here, my honest fellow. 
You will take it ? 

To be sure I will. 

And will smoke it? 

That I will. 

And will not think of giving me anything in return ? 

31. Rise ! Sleep no more ! 'T is a noble morn. 
The dews hang thick on the fringed thorn, 

And the frost shrinks back like the beaten hound, 
Under the steaming, steaming ground. 
Behold, where the billowy clouds flow by, 
And leave us alone in the clear gray sky ! 
Our horses are ready and steady. — So, ho ! 
I 'm gone, like a dart from the Tartar's bow. 
Hark — Hark ! — Who calleth the maiden Morn 
From her sleep in the woods and the stubble corn ? 

The horn, — the horn ! 
The merry, sweet ring of the hunter's horn. 

Cornwall 

32. Hurrah ! hurrah ! a single field hath turned the chance of war! 
Hurrah ! hurrah ! for Ivry, and Henry of Navarre. 

Macaulay 



SPEECH MELODY 29 

33. Hence ! home, you idle creatures ; get you home ! 

Shakespeare 

34. Must I budge ? must I observe you ? must I stand and crouch 
under your testy humour ? — Shakespeare 

35. O name of liberty, sweet to our ears ! O rights of citizenship, 
in which we glory ! O laws of Porcius and Sempronius ! O privilege 
of the tribune, long and sorely regretted, and at last restored to the 
people of Rome ! Has it after all come to this, that a Roman citizen 
in a province that belongs to the people of Rome, in a town ruled by 
Rome, is to be bound and beaten with rods in the forum by a man 
who holds these rods and axes — those awful emblems of Roman 
sovereignty — by grace of that same Roman people ? What remains 
to be said of the fact that fire, and red-hot plates, and other tortures 
were applied ? Even if his agonized cries and piteous entreaties did 
not check you, Verres, were you not moved by the tears and groans 
which burst from the Roman citizens who were present and witnessed 
the scene ? How dared you drag to the cross any man who claimed 
to be a citizen of Rome ? — 

I did not intend, gentlemen, to press this case so strongly — I did 
not indeed ; for you saw on my former pleading how bitter with 
indignation and hate and dread of a common peril was the public 
feeling against the defendant. — Cicero 

36. Hurrah for the sea ! the all-glorious sea ! 
Its might is so wondrous, its spirit so free ! 

And its billows beat time to each pulse of my soul, 
Which impatient, like them, cannot yield to control. 

37. Flower in the crannied wall. 

I pluck you out of your crannies, 

Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 

Little flower — but if I could understand 

What you are, root and all, and all in all, 

I should know what God and man is. — Tennyson 

38. My boy, the first thing you want to learn — -if you haven't 
learned to do it already — is to tell the truth. The pure, sweet, re- 
freshing, wholesome truth. For one thing it will save you so much 



30 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

trouble. Oh, heaps of trouble. And no end of hard work. And a 
terrible strain upon your memory. Sometimes — and when I say 
sometimes I mean a great many times — it is hard to tell the truth 
the first time. But when you have told it there is an end of it. You 
have won the victory ; the fight is over. Next time you tell the 
truth you can tell it without thinking. You don't have to stop and 
wonder how you told it yesterday. You won't have to stop and look 
round and see who is there before you begin telling it. And you 
won't have to invent a lot of new lies to reinforce the old one. After 
Ananias told a lie his wife had to tell another just like it. You see if 
you tell lies you are apt to get your whole family into trouble. 

BURDETTE 

39. O for a soft and gentle wind ! 

I heard a fair one cry ; 
But give to me the snoring breeze 

And white waves heaving high : 
And white waves heaving high, my lads, 

The good ship tight and free ; 
The world of waters is our home, 

And merry men are we. 

40. " How much, dear, do you love me ? " 

I softly asked the maid. 

" I love you 'most to pieces," 

The laughing lassie said. 

Ah, well ! I sometimes ponder 

Upon the words she spoke. 
She loves me rt 'most to pieces," 

But would she love me tf broke." — Puck 

41. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, 
trippingly on the tongue : but if you mouth it, as many of your players 
do, I had as lief the town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the 
air too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently ; for in the very 
torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, the whirlwind of passion, you must 
acquire and beget a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it 
offends me to the soul to hear a robustious, periwig-pated fellow tear 



SPEECH MELODY 3 1 

a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, 
who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb 
shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'erdoing 
Termagant ; it out-herods Herod : pray you, avoid it. . . . Be not 
too tame neither, but let your own discretion be your tutor : suit the 
action to the word, the word to the action ; with this special observ- 
ance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature : for any thing so 
overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first 
and now, was and is, to hold, as 't were, the mirror up to nature ; to 
show virtue her own feature, scorn her own image, and the very age 
and body of the time his form and pressure. — Shakespeare 

42. A well known clergyman of Boston was once talking to some 
friends with reference to the desirability of chronological coherence 
in ideas, in the form of written statement, when he observed that 
there are times when this method becomes a trifle too suggestive. 
" For instance," said the speaker, tf I once heard a minister in 
New Hampshire make his usual Sunday morning announcements 
as follows " : 

The funeral of the late and much lamented sexton takes place on 
Wednesday afternoon at three o'clock. 

Thanksgiving services will be held in this chapel on Thursday 
morning at eleven o'clock. 

43. The people gave their voice, and the danger that hung upon 
our borders went by like a cloud. Then was the time for the 
upright citizen to show the world if he could suggest anything bet- 
ter : — but now his cavils come too late. The statesman and adven- 
turer are alike in nothing, but there is nothing in which they differ 
more than in this. The statesman declares his mind before the event, 
and submits himself to be tested by those who have believed him, by 
fortune, by his own use of opportunities, by every one and everything. 
The adventurer is silent when he ought to have spoken, and then if 
there is a disagreeable result, he fixes his eye of malice upon that. 
As I have said, then was the opportunity of the man who cared for 
Athens and the assertion of justice. — Demosthenes 

44. Mr. Sipp. Young man. how dare you swear before my wife? 
Boy. How did I know your wife wanted to swear first? 



32 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

45. How long, O Catiline, wilt thou abuse our patience? How 
long shalt thou baffle justice in thy mad career? To what extreme 
wilt thou carry thy audacity? Art thou nothing daunted by the 
nightly watch, posted to secure the Palatium ? Nothing, by the city 
guards ? Nothing, by the rally of all good citizens ? Nothing, by the 
assembling of the Senate in this fortified place? Nothing, by the 
averted looks of all here present ? Seest thou not that all thy plots 
are exposed, that thy wretched conspiracy is laid bare to every man's 
knowledge, here in the Senate ? That we are well aware of thy pro- 
ceedings of last night ; of the night before ; — the place of meeting, 
the company convoked, the measures concerted ? Alas, the times ! 
Alas, the public morals ! The Senate understands all this. The con- 
sul sees it. Yet the traitor lives ! Lives ? Ay, truly, and confronts 
us here in council, takes part in our deliberations, and, with measur- 
ing eye, marks out each man of us for slaughter. And we, all this 
while, strenuous that we are, think we have amply discharged our 
duty to the State, if we but shun this madman's sword and fury. 

Cicero 

46. He who speaks honestly cares not, need not care, though his 
words be preserved to remotest time. For him who speaks dishon- 
estly, the fittest of all punishments seems to be this same, which the 
nature of the case provides. The dishonest speaker, not he only who 
purposely utters falsehoods, but he who does not purposely utter 
Truth, and Truth alone ; who babbles he knows not what, and has 
clapped no bridle on his tongue, but lets it run racket, ejecting chatter 
and futility, — is among the most indisputable of malefactors omitted 
or inserted in the criminal calendar. — Carlyle 

47. Of all the qualities which great books and especially the Bible 
have, few are more remarkable than their power of bringing out the 
unity of disassociated and apparently contradictory ideas. One of the 
peculiarities of their use of common words is the way in which they 
take two which seem directly opposite and, carrying out each into its 
highest meaning, find for them a meeting-place in some larger truth. 
It gives a glimpse of the final unity of all truth. We live down about 
the bases of the words we use ; see them in their simply human re- 
lations ; see them where they touch the ground. To us they seem 
to stand opposite, over against each other, ununited, ununitable. But 



SPEECH MELODY 33 

we must never forget that every true thought outgoes its human 
relations, and for all true thoughts there must be some place of 
meeting. Inspiration is just the entrance of their complete meaning 
into human words ; and then, filled with God they are illuminated, 
and we can trace them all the way up and see that they are not iso- 
lated columns, but parts of a structure. They are not opposite and 
contradictory, but they meet together in an arch of one harmonious 
meaning. And then all language builds itself from being a wilderness 
of unconnected pillars, — about which we wander as an insect creeps 
from pillar to pillar across a vast cathedral floor, having no suspicion 
of its unity, — into one vast temple wherein intelligent men walk 
upright, looking upward to where the great roof collects and harmon- 
izes all, and do intelligent worship. 

48. You think me a fanatic, for you read history, not with your 
eyes but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when Truth 
gets a hearing, the Muse of history will put Phocion for the Greek, 
Brutus for the Roman, Hampden for England, Fayette for France, 
choose Washington as the bright consummate flower of our earlier 
civilization, then, dipping her pen in the sunlight, will write in the 
clear blue, above them all, the name of the soldier, the statesman, 
the martyr, Toussaint L'Ouverture. — Phillips 

49. All sorts and conditions of men have excellent reasons for 
their condition and position in life. A tramp who had no illusions 
about the cause of his own condition was accosted thus : 

Mrs. Finehealth (at hotel entrance). No, I have no money to 
spare you. I do not see why an able-bodied man like you should go 
about begging. 

Lazy Tramp. I suppose mum, it 's fer the same reason that a 
healthy woman like you boards at a hotel instead of keeping house. 

50. Flower of the green-knolled meadows, blood-born, tinting 

the earth, 
Filled with scarlet ichor, symbol of war's red birth, 
Now when May's rare splendors bring to the land increase, 
I pause to pluck thy blossoms spread thick as the drifted 

snow. — Benton 



34 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

5 1 . When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the 
Sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishon- 
oured fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, dis- 
cordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it 
may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance 
rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and 
honoured throughout the Earth, still full high advanced ; its arms and 
trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or 
polluted, nor a single star obscured ; bearing for its motto, no such 
miserable interrogatory as, "What is all this worth?" nor those 
other words of delusion and folly, " Liberty first, and Union after- 
wards " ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, 
blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the 
land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other senti- 
ment, dear to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now 
and for ever, one and inseparable ! — Webster 

52. Forasmuch as I know that thou hast been of many years a 
judge unto this nation, I do the more cheerfully answer for myself : 
Because that thou mayest understand, that there are yet but twelve 
days since I went up to Jerusalem for to worship. And they neither 
found me in the temple disputing with any man, neither raising up 
the people, neither in the synagogues, nor in the city : Neither can 
they prove the things whereof they now accuse me. But this I con- 
fess unto thee, that after the way which they call heresy, so worship I 
the God of my fathers, believing all things which are written in the 
law and in the prophets : And have hope toward God, which they 
themselves also allow, that there shall be a resurrection of the dead, 
both of the just and unjust. And herein do I exercise myself, to 
have always a conscience void of offence toward God, and toward 
men. Now after many years I came to bring alms to my nation, and 
offerings. Whereupon certain Jews from Asia found me purified in 
the temple, neither with multitude, nor with tumult. Who ought to 
have been here before thee, and object, if they had aught against 
me. Or else let these same here say, if they have found any evil 
doing in me, while I stood before the council, except it be for this 
one voice, that I cried standing among them, Touching the resur- 
rection of the dead I am called in question by you this day. 

Acts xxiv, 10-21 



SPEECH MELODY 35 

53. Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth upon 
this continent a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to 
the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged 
in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so 
conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. 

We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have met to 
dedicate a portion of it as a final resting-place of those who here 
gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting 
and proper that we should do this. But in a larger sense we cannot 
dedicate, we cannot consecrate, we cannot hallow this ground. The 
brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it 
far beyond our power to add or detract. The world will little note, 
nor long remember, what we say here ; but it can never forget what 
they did here. 

It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated to the unfinished 
work that they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather for 
us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us ; that 
from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause 
for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion ; that we 
here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that 
this nation shall, under God, have a new birth of freedom, and that 
government of the people, by the people and for the people shall 
not perish from the earth. — Lincoln 

54. Cupid and my Campaspe play'd 

At cards for kisses : Cupid paid. 
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows ; 
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows : 
Loses them too. Then down he throws 
The coral of his lip, the rose 
Growing on 's cheek (but none knows how) ; 
With these, the crystal of his brow, 
And then the dimple on his chin : 
All these did my Campaspe win. 
At last he set her both his eyes : 
She won, and Cupid blind did rise. 
O Love ! has she done this to thee ? 
What shall, alas ! become of me ? — Lyly 



36 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

55. I plucked a honeysuckle where 

The hedge on high is quick with thorn, 
And climbing for the prize, was torn, 

And fouled my feet in quag-water ; 
And by the thorns and by the wind 
The blossom that I took was thinn'd, 

And yet I found it sweet and fair. 

Thence to a richer growth I came, 

Where, nursed in mellow intercourse, 

The honeysuckles sprang in scores, 
Not harried like my single stem, 

All virgin lamps of scent and dew. 

So from my hand that first I threw, 
Yet plucked not any more of them. — Rossetti 

56. A Holiday in Bed 

Now is the time for a real holiday. Take it in bed, if you 
are wise. 

People have tried a holiday in bed before now, and have found it 
a failure, but that was because they were ignorant of the rules. They 
went to bed with the open intention of staying there, say, three days, 
and found to their surprise that each morning they wanted to get up. 
This was a novel experience to them, they flung about restlessly, and 
probably shortened their holiday. The proper thing is to take your 
holiday in bed with a vague intention of getting, up in another 
quarter of an hour. The real pleasure of lying in bed after you are 
awake is largely due to the feeling that you ought to get up. To take 
another quarter of an hour then becomes a luxury. 

To enjoy your holiday in bed to the full, you should let it be 
vaguely understood that there is something amiss with you. Don't 
go into details, for they are not necessary ; and, besides, you want to 
be dreamy more or less, and the dreamy state is not consistent with 
a definite ailment. The moment one takes to bed he gets sympathy. 
He may be suffering from a tearing headache or tooth that makes 
him cry out ; but if he goes about his business, or even flops in a 
chair, true sympathy is denied him. Let him take to bed with one of 



SPEECH MELODY 



37 



those illnesses of which he can say with accuracy that he is not quite 
certain what is the matter with him, and his wife, for instance, will 
want to bathe his brow. She must not be made too anxious. That 
would not only be cruel to her but it would wake you from the 
dreamy state. She must simply see that you are " not yourself." 
Women have an idea that unless men are " not themselves " they 
will not take to bed, and as a consequence your wife is tenderly 
thoughtful of you. Every little while she will ask if you are feeling 
any better now, and you reply, with the old regard for truth, " much 
about the same." You may even (for your own pleasure) talk of get- 
ting up now, when she will earnestly urge you to stay in bed until 
you feel easier. You consent ; indeed you are ready to do anything 
to please her. 

The ideal holiday in bed does not require the presence of a minis- 
tering angel in the room all the time. You frequently prefer to be 
alone, and point out to your wife that you cannot have her trifling 
with her health for your sake, and so she must go out for a walk. 
She is reluctant, but finally goes, protesting that you are the most 
unselfish of men, and only too good for her. This leaves a pleasant 
aroma behind it, for even when lying in bed, we like to feel that we 
are uncommonly fine fellows. After she is gone you get up cautiously, 
and walking stealthily to the wardrobe, produce from the pocket of 
your coat a novel. A holiday in bed must be arranged for before- 
hand. With a gleam in your eye you slip back to bed, double your 
pillow to make it higher, and begin to read. 

Those who have never tried it may fancy that there is a lack of 
incident in a holiday in bed. There could not be a more monstrous 
mistake. You are in the middle of a chapter when suddenly you hear 
a step upon the stair. Your loving ears tell you that your wife has 
returned, and is hastening to you. Now, what happens ? The book 
disappears beneath the pillow, and when she enters the room softly 
you are lying there with your eyes shut. This is not merely incident, 
it is drama. 

What happens next depends upon circumstances. She says in a 
low voice — " Are you feeling any easier now, John ? " 

No answer. 

" Oh, I believe he is sleeping." 

Then she steals from the room and you begin to read again. 



38 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

During a holiday in bed one never thinks, of course, of analyzing 
his actions. If you had done so in this instance, you would have seen 
that you pretended sleep because you had got to an exciting passage. 
You love your wife, but, wife or no wife, you must see how the pas- 
sage ends. 

Possibly the little scene plays differently, as thus — 

"John, are you feeling any easier now? " 

No answer. 

" Are you asleep ? " 

No answer. 

ft What a pity ! I don't want to waken him, and yet the fowl will 
be spoilt." 

" Is that you back, Marion? " 

" Yes, dear ; I thought you were asleep." 

" No, only thinking." 

ct You think too much, dear. I have cooked a chicken for you." 

" I have no appetite." 

" I 'm so sorry, but I can give it to the children." 

" Oh, as it 's cooked, you may as well bring it up." 

In that case your reason for change of action is obvious. But why 
do you not let your wife know that you have been reading ? This is 
another matter that you never reason about. Perhaps, it is because 
of your craving for sympathy, and you fear that if you were seen 
enjoying a novel the sympathy would go. Or, perhaps, it is that a 
holiday in bed is never perfect without a secret. Monotony must be 
guarded against, and so long as you keep the book to yourself your 
holiday in bed is a healthy excitement. A stolen book (as we may 
call it) is like stolen fruit, sweeter than what you can devour openly. 
The boy enjoys his stolen apple, because at any moment he may have 
to slip it down the leg of his trousers, and pretend that he has merely 
climbed the tree to enjoy the scenery. You enjoy your book doubly 
because you feel that it is a forbidden pleasure. Or, do you conceal 
the book from your wife lest she should think that you are over- 
exerting yourself. She must not be made anxious on your account. 
Ah, that is it. 

People who pretend (for it is mere pretence) that they enjoy their 
holiday in the country, explain that the hills or the sea gave them 
such an appetite. I could never myself feel the delight of being able 



SPEECH MELODY 39 

to manage an extra herring for breakfast, but it should be pointed 
out that neither mountains nor oceans give you such an appetite as 
a holiday in bed. What makes people eat more anywhere is that they 
have nothing else to do, and in bed you have lots of time for meals. 
As for the quality of the food supplied, there is no comparison. In 
the Highlands it is ham and eggs all day till you sicken. At the sea- 
side it is fish till the bones stick in your mouth. But in bed — oh. 
there you get something worth eating. You don't take three big 
meals a day, but twelve little ones, and each time it is something dif- 
ferent from the last. There are delicacies for breakfast, for your four 
luncheons and your five dinners. You explain to your wife that you 
have lost your appetite, and she believes you, but at the same time 
she has the sense to hurry on your dinner. At the clatter of dishes 
(for which you have been lying listening) you raise your poor head, 
and say faintly: " Really, Marion, I can't touch food/' 

t? But this is nothing, only the wing of a partridge." 

You take a side glance at it, you see that there is also the other 
wing and the body and two legs. Your alarm thus dispelled, you 
say — " I really can't." 

" But, dear, it is so beautifully cooked." 

" Yes. but I have no appetite." 

" But try to take it, John, for my sake." 

Then for her sake you say she can leave it on the chair, and per- 
haps you will just taste it. As soon as she has gone you devour that 
partridge, and when she comes back she has the sense to say — 
I Why, you have scarcely eaten anything. What could you take 
for supper ? " 

You say you can take nothing, but if she likes she can cook a 
large sole, only you won't be able to touch it. 

"Poor dear!" (she says) "your appetite has completely gone," 
and then she rushes to the kitchen to cook the sole with her own 
hands. In half-an-hour she steals into your room with it, and then 
you (who have been wondering why she is such a time) start up 
protesting, " I hope, Marion, this is nothing for me." 

" Only the least little bit of a sole, dear." 

" But I told you I could eat nothing." 

" Well, this is nothing, it is so small." 

You look again, and see with relief that it is a large sole. 



40 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" I would rather you took it away." 

" But, dear — " 

" I tell you I have no appetite." 

" Of course I know that ; but how can you hope to preserve your 
strength if you eat so little? You have had nothing all day." 

You glance at her face to see if she is in earnest, for you can 
remember three breakfasts, four luncheons, two dinners, and sand- 
wiches between ; but evidently she is not jesting. Then you yield. 

(t Oh, well, to keep my health up I may just put a fork into it." 

"Do, dear ; it will do you good, though you have no caring for it." 

Take a holiday in bed if only to discover what an angel your 
wife is. 

There is only one thing to guard against. Never call it a holiday. 
Continue not to feel sure what is wrong with you, and talk vaguely 
of getting up presently. Your wife will suggest calling in the doctor, 
but pooh-pooh him. Be firm on that point. The chances are that he 
won't understand your case. — Barrie 



57- 



If We Had The Time 

If I had the time to find a place 
And sit me down full face to face 

With my better self, that cannot show 

In my daily life that rushes so ; 
It might be then I would see my soul 
Was stumbling still towards the shining goal, 

I might be nerved by the thought sublime, — 
If I had the time ! 

If I had the time to let my heart 

Speak out and take in my life apart, 
To look about and to stretch a hand 
To a comrade quartered in no-luck land ; 

Ah, God ! If I might but just sit still 

And hear the note of the whip-poor-will, 

I think that my wish with God's would rhyme, 
If I had the time ! 



SPEECH MELODY 41 

If I had the time to learn from you 
How much for comfort my word could do ; 
And I told you then of my sudden will 
To kiss your feet when I did you ill ; 
If the tears aback of the coldness feigned 
Could flow, and the wrong be quite explained, — 
Brothers, the souls of us all would chime, 

If we had the time ! — Richard Burton 

Copyright, Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Company 

580 A Conservative 

The garden beds I wandered by 

One bright and cheerful morn, 
When I found a new-fledged butterfly 

A-sitting on a thorn, 
A black and crimson butterfly, 

All doleful and forlorn. 

I thought that life could have no sting 

To infant butterflies, 
So I gazed on this unhappy thing 

With wonder and surprise, 
While sadly with his waving wing 

He wiped his weeping eyes. 

Said I, " What can the matter be? 

Why weepest thou so sore ? 
With garden fair and sunlight free 

And flowers in goodly store — " 
But he only turned away from me 

And burst into a roar. 

Cried he, " My legs are thin and few 

Where once I had a swarm ! 
Soft fuzzy fur — a joy to view — 

Once kept my body warm, 
Before these flapping wing-things grew, 

To hamper and deform ! " 



42 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

At that outrageous bug I shot 

The fury of mine eye; 
Said I, in scorn all burning hot, 

In rage and anger high, 
" You ignominious idiot ! 

Those wings are made to fly ! " 

" I do not want to fly," said he, 

tc I only want to squirm ! " 
And he drooped his wings dejectedly, 

But still his voice was firm : 
f? I do not want to be a fly ! 

I want to be a worm ! " 

yesterday of unknown lack ! 
To-day of unknown bliss ! 

1 left my fool in red and black, 

The last I saw was this, — 
The creature madly climbing back 
Into his chrysalis. — C. P. Gilman 

Copyright, Small, Maynard and Company 

59. Self-Reliance 

To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you 
in your private heart, is true for all men. — that is genius. Speak 
your latent conviction and it shall be the universal sense ; for always 
the inmost becomes the outmost, — ■ and our first thought is rendered 
back to us by the trumpets of the Last Judgment. Familiar as the 
voice of the mind is to each, the highest merit we ascribe to Moses. 
Plato, and Milton, is that they set at naught books and traditions, 
and spoke not what men, but what they thought. A man should 
learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his 
mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards 
and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it 
is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected 
thoughts : they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. 
Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. 



SPEECH MELODY 43 

They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with good- 
humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on 
the other side. Else, to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly 
good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, 
and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from 
another. 

There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the 
conviction that envy is ignorance ; that imitation is suicide ; that he 
must take himself for better, for worse, as his portion ; that though 
the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can 
come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground 
which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is 
new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, 
nor does he know until he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one 
character, one fact makes much impression on him, and another none. 
It is not without preestablished harmony, this sculpture in the mem- 
ory. The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might 
testify of that particular ray. . . . We but half express ourselves, and 
are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may 
be safely trusted as proportionate and of good issues, so it be faith- 
fully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by 
cowards. ... A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart 
into his work and done his 'best ; but what he has said or done other- 
wise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not 
deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him ; no muse befriends ; 
no invention, no hope. 

Trust thyself : every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept 
the place the divine Providence has found for you ; the society of 
your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have 
always done so and confided themselves childlike to the genius of 
their age, betraying their perception that the Eternal was stirring at 
their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their 
being. 

And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the 
same transcendent destiny ; and not pinched in a corner, not cowards 
fleeing before a revolution, but redeemers and benefactors, pious 
aspirants to be noble clay plastic under the Almighty effort, let us 
advance and advance on Chaos and the Dark. — Emerson 



44 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

60. Repent Ye 

With this startling revolutionary cry Jesus began His public min- 
istry. In the ears of those who listened, it was not unfamiliar, for 
the rough prophet of the Jordan had already been uttering it to 
listening thousands. Even then it was not new, for men had heard 
it in the prophecies of by-gone days, and it was a familiar note to all 
acquainted with the Hebrew Scriptures. 

Like everything else which Jesus uttered it took a new meaning 
when it fell from His lips. It may safely be affirmed that as regards 
the effect it produced upon the rulers, it finally led to His crucifixion. 
It was a word without a tone of apology or a suggestion of argument. 
It had the emphasis of authority, and it did not admit of the pos- 
sibility of appeal. It is a call which can never be said to have been 
popular. And yet it has always been the first demand of such as 
have spoken the word of God to men. If it could be omitted from 
the preaching of to-day, men would have less objection to listen. It 
is therefore that we should understand its meaning. 

It is probable that to the men who heard the word as it fell from 
the lips of Jesus it had an emphasis somewhat different from that 
which it has to the ordinary man of to-day. To them it was a word 
that belonged to the mental realm and had no reference to conduct. 

It is perfectly true that the outcome of obedience to it would be 
a change of conduct, but so far as the word repent is concerned, it 
was an appeal to the mind. It would be perfectly accurate to render 
it : " Change your mind ! " " Think differently ! " 

We have come to associate the idea of sorrow and amendment of 
life with this word. Both these things have relation to the thought 
of repentance, but they come into our theology through another 
word which means remorse. We have lost something of our sim- 
plicity by this intrusion. Taking the word in its simple meaning, as 
Christ made use of it, it demands a change in the thought or con- 
ception, which underlies all activity. The fact that Christ has used 
this word as the keynote of all His ministry reveals a method. It is 
that of recognizing the formative influence of thought on man's 
conduct. He made His appeal to the springs of action, recognizing 
that if a man's thinking is wrong, everything is wrong. "As he 
thinketh in his heart, so is he." 



SPEECH MELODY 45 

It follows, therefore, that to whomsoever Christ uttered this word 
it involved condemnation. He said in effect to the men of His age : 
Your character and conduct are wrong, because your conceptions 
are wrong. All the attitudes and activities of life are the outcome of 
underlying thought or conception, and at the beginning of His min- 
istry, and in His initial dealing with men, the Master calls for a 
change of mind, a new conception. The context explains the nature 
of the wrong thought. " Repent ye : for the kingdom of heaven is 
at hand." By saying this He declared that their thinking was out of 
harmony with the principles of that kingdom. While the language 
of the kingdom was upon their lips, and their lives were spent in 
great part in attendance upon its external observances, their under- 
lying conceptions of life were godless. The fact of the eternal 
throne, and the intimate relation between spiritual and material 
things, they did not admit in the deepest fact of their being. This is 
always the supreme evil. Creeds there may be or may not be ; but 
if there be no living consciousness of God and His throne, the life 
and conduct and character must inevitably be godless. For the cor- 
rection of all that is external, Christ, therefore, commands a change 
of attitude in thought which is the inspiration of activity. The con- 
duct of the kingdom can only be the outcome of kingdom concep- 
tions. Where both these are lacking, Christ comes with His startling 
and revolutionary cry, " Repent Ye ! " 

The supreme argument of obedience to His call is Himself. 
In Him the kingdom was manifest among men. His thinking was 
supremely that of the consciousness of God, and consequently His 
whole life was ordered in all its activities by the will of God, and 
in His character all the breadth and beauty and beneficence of that 
kingdom stand confessed before the eyes of men. In calling men to 
repentance He emphasized the necessity of obedience by what He 
was in himself. In calling men to Himself He emphasized the 
necessity of repentance. His whole character and conduct were a 
perpetual contradiction to that of the men of His age. To continue 
living as they were they must get rid of Him. To change conduct 
and character in order that it might be made to harmonize with His, 
it was absolutely necessary that they should first change their mind, 
that is, repent. 

It is quite possible that to-day the heart of man will rebel against 



46 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the call to repentance, but it is not possible for any man to stand 
in the presence of Christ, and admit the beauty of the pattern 
which He presents without knowing it to be necessary to repent. A 
man may stand alone and examine his own life as to character and 
conduct and conception, and be perfectly satisfied. Or he may com- 
pare himself among his fellows, and be complacent with the satis- 
faction of the Pharisees, or rebellious with the daring of the sinner. 
But to bring the life into the light of the Christ-revelation of pur- 
pose and possibility is at once to consent to the reasonableness of His 
call to repentance. 

When that reasonableness is recognized, the question becomes 
one of choice and decision. Shall we change our mind, or shall we 
refuse to do so ? In other words shall we reject the Christ or crown 
Him ? Let the issue be considered before the decision is made. 

To repeat the formula more than once referred to : Out of con- 
ception, conduct will proceed, and character will be created. To re- 
fuse to change the mind is to decline to yield up the life to the throne 
of God and to accept the divine ideal. This is inevitably to make 
choice of ultimate ruin. Like every other call of the Master, this is 
faithful and true, and yet it leaves man free to make his own choice. 
" Repent ye " is an arresting and troublesome word. It is such, how- 
ever, only to those whose conceptions are degraded and who are 
missing the mark of their high calling. Infinitely better the humilia- 
tion which confesses wrong, and turns from it, to find the great 
ennoblement which must inevitably follow such obedience, than the 
stubborn pride which rejects the high ideal of infinite love only to 
find the unutterable humbling of lasting failure. 



61. A Scene from David Copperfield 

Characters : Old Fisherman Peggotty, Ham Peggotty, David 
Copperfield 

Note. The scene is the interior of the "Old Ark"; the time is 
evening. The rain is falling outside, yet inside the old ark all is snug 
and comfortable. The fire is burning brightly on the hearth, and 
Mother Gummidge sits by it knitting. Ham has gone out to fetch 
Little Em'ly home from her work, and the old fisherman sits smoking 
his evening pipe by the table near the window. They are expecting 



SPEECH MELODY 47 

Steerforth and Copperfield in to spend the evening. Presently a knock 
is heard and David enters. Old Peggotty gets up to greet him. 

Old Peggotty. Why ! It 's Mas'r Davy ! Glad to see you, Mas'r 
Davy, you 're the first of the lot ! Take off that cloak of yours if it 's 
wet and draw right up to the fire. Don't you mind Mawther Gum- 
midge, Mas'r Davy ; she 's a-thinkin' of the old 'un. She allers do be 
thinkin' of the old 'un when ther s a storm a-comin' up, along of his 
havin' been drownded at sea. Well, now, I must go and light up ac- 
cordin' to custom. (He lights a candle and puts it on the table by the 
window.) Theer we are! Theer we are ! A-lighted up accordin' to 
custom. Now, Mas'r Davy, you 're a-wonderin' what that little candle 
is fur, ain't yer? Well, I '11 tell yer. It's for my Little Em'ly. You 
see, the path ain't light or cheerful arter dark, so when I 'm home 
along the time that Little Em'ly comes home from her work, I allers 
lights the little candle and puts it there on the table in the winder, 
and it serves two purposes, — first, Em'ly sees it and she says : 
" Theer 's home," and likewise, " Theer 's Uncle," fur if I ain't here 
I never have no light showed. Theer ! Now you 're laughin' at me 
Mas'r Davy ! You 're savin' as how I 'm a babby. Well, I don't know 
but I am. (Walks toward table.) Not a babby to look at, but a 
babby to consider on. A babby in the form of a Sea Porkypine. 

See the candle sparkle! I can hear it say — " Em'ly 's lookin' at me! 
Little Em'ly 's comin' ! " Right I am for here she is ! (He goes to the 
door to meet herj the door opens and Ham comes staggering in.) ■ 

Ham. She 's gone ! Her that I 'd a died fur, and will die fur 
even now ! She 's gone ! 

Peggotty. Gone ! 

Ham. Gone ! She 's run away ! And think how she 's run away 
when I pray my good and gracious God to strike her down dead, 
sooner than let her come to disgrace and shame. 

Peggotty. Em'ly gone ! I '11 not believe it. I must have proof — 
proof. 

Ham. Read that writin.' 

Peggotty. No ! I won't read that writin' — read it you, Mas'r 
Davy. Slow, please. I don't know as I can understand. 

David (reads). *' When you see this I shall be far away." 

Peggotty. Stop theer. Mas'r Davy ! Stop theer ! Fur away ! My 
Little Em'ly fur awav ! Well ? 



48 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

David {reads). " Never to come back again unless he brings me 
back a lady. Don't remember, Ham, that we were to be married, 
but try to think of me as if I had died long ago, and was buried 
somewhere. My last love and last tears for Uncle." 

Peggotty. Who 's the man ? What 's his name ? I want to know 
the man's name. 

Ham. It warn't no fault of yours, Mas'r Davy, that I know. 

Peggotty. What ! You don't mean his name 's Steerforth, do you? 

Ham. Yes ! His name is Steerforth and he 's a cursed villain ! 

Peggotty. Where's my coat? Give me my coat! Help me on 
with it, Mas'r Davy. Now bear a hand theer with my hat. 

David. Where are you going, Mr. Peggotty ? 

Peggotty. I 'm a goin' to seek fur my Little Em'ly. First I 'm 
going to stave in that theer boat and sink it where I 'd a drownded 
him, as I'm a livin' soul, if I 'd a known what he had in him ! I 'd 
a drownded him, and thought I was doin' right ! Now I 'm going to 
seek fur my Little Em'ly throughout the wide wurreld ! 

Adapted from Dickens 

62. The Capture of a Trout 

The trout knew nothing of all this. They had not tasted a worm 
for a month, except when a sod of the bank fell in, through cracks 
of the sun, and the way cold water has of licking upward. And even 
the flies had no flavor at all ; when they fell on the water, they fell 
flat, and on the palate they tasted hot, even under the bushes. 

Hilary followed a path through the meadows, with the calm bright 
sunset casting his shadow over the shorn grass, or up in the hedge- 
road, or on the brown banks where the drought had struck. On his 
back he carried a fishing-basket, containing his bits of refreshment ; 
and in his right hand a short springy rod, the absent sailor's favorite. 
After long council with Mabel, he had made up his mind to walk up 
stream, as far as the spot where two brooks met, and formed body 
enough for a fly flipped in very carefully to sail downward. Here he 
began, and the creak of his reel and the swish of his rod were music 
to him, after the whirl of London life. 

The brook was as bright as the best cut-glass, and the twinkles of 
its shifting facets only made it seem more clear. It twisted about a 
little here and there : and the brink was fringed now and then with 



SPEECH MELODY 49 

something, a clump of loose-strife, a tuft of avens, or a bed of flower- 
ing water-cress, or any other of the many plants that wash and look 
into the water. But the trout, the main object in view, were most 
objectionably too much in view. They scudded up the brook at the 
shadow of a hair, or even the tremble of a blade of grass ; and no 
pacific assurance could make them even stop to be reasoned with. 
" This won't do," said Hilary, who very often talked to himself, in 
lack of a better comrade ; " I call this very hard upon me. The 
beggars won't bite till it is quite dark. I must have the interdict off 
my tobacco, if this sort of thing is to go on. How I should enjoy a 
pipe just now ! I may just as well sit on a gate and think. No, hang 
it, I hate thinking now. There are troubles hanging over me, as sure 
as the tail of that comet grows. How I detest that comet ! No wonder 
the fish won't rise. But if I have to strip and tickle them in the dark, 
I won't go back without some for her." 

He was lucky enough to escape the weight of such horrible poach- 
ing upon his conscience : for suddenly to his ears was borne the most 
melodious of all sounds, the flop of a heavy fish sweetly jumping 
after some excellent fly or grub. 

" Ha, my friend! " cried Hilary, "so you are up for your supper, 
are you ? I myself will awake right early. Still I behold the ring you 
made. If my right hand forget not its cunning, you shall form your 
next ring in the frying pan." 

He gave the fish a little time to think of the beauty of that mouth- 
ful, and get ready for another : the while he was putting a white moth 
on, in lieu of his blue upright. He kept the grizzled palmer still for 
tail-fly, and he tried his knots, for he knew that his trout was a Triton. 

Then with a delicate sidling and stooping, known only to them 
that fish for trout in very bright water of the summer-time, — compared 
with which art the coarse work of the salmon-fisher is that of a scene- 
painter to Mr. Holman Hunt's, — with, or in, and by a careful man- 
ner, not to be described to those who have never studied it, Hilary 
won access to the water, without any doubt in the mind of the fish 
concerning the prudence of appetite. Then he flipped his short col- 
lar in, not with a cast, but a spring of the rod, and let his flies go 
quietly down a sharpish run into that good trout's hole. The worthy 
trout looked at them both, and thought : for he had his own favorite 
spot for watching the world go by, as the rest of us have. So he let 



50 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the grizzled palmer pass, within an inch of his upper lip ; for it struck 
him that the tail turned up in a manner not wholly natural, or at any 
rate unwholesome. He looked at the white moth also, and thought 
that he had never seen one at all like it. So he went down under his 
root again, hugging himself upon his wisdom, never moving a fin, 
but oaring and helming his plump, spotted sides with his tail. 

" Upon my word, it is too bad ! " said Hilary, after three beautiful 
throws, and exquisite management down stream : u everything Kentish 
beats me hollow. Now, if it had been one of our trout, I would have 
laid my life upon catching him. One more throw, however. How 
would it be if I sunk my flies? That fellow is worth some patience." 

While he was speaking, his flies alit on the glassy ripple, like 
gnats in their love-dance ; and then by a turn of the wrist, he played 
them just below the surface, and let them go gliding down the stickle, 
into the shelfy nook of shadow, where the big trout hovered. Under 
the surface, floating thus, with the check of ductile influence, the two 
flies spread their wings and quivered, like a centiplume moth in a 
spider's web. Still the old trout, calmly oaring, looked at them both 
suspiciously. Why should the same flies come so often, and why 
should they have such crooked tails, and could he be sure that he did 
not spy the shadow of a human hat about twelve yards up the water ? 
Revolving these things he might have lived to a venerable age, but 
for that noble ambition to teach, which is fatal even to the wisest. A 
young fish, an insolent whipper-snapper, jumped in his babyish way 
at the palmer, and missed it through overeagerness. " I '11 show you 
the way to catch a fly," said the big trout to him, "open your mouth 
like this, my son." 

With that he bolted the palmer, and threw up his tail, and turned 
to go home again. Alas, his sweet home shall know him no more ! 
For suddenly he was surprised by a most disagreeable sense of grit- 
tiness, and then a keen stab in the roof of his mouth. He jumped, in 
his wrath, a foot out of the water, and then heavily plunged to the 
depths of his hole. 

tr You 've got it, my friend," cried Hilary, in a tingle of fine emo- 
tions ; " I hope the sailor's knots are tied with professional skill and 
care. You are a big one, and a clever one too. It is much if ever I 
land you. No net, or gaff, or anything. I only hope there are no 
stakes here. Ah, there you go ! Now comes the tug." 



SPEECH MELODY 5 I 

Away went the big trout down the stream, at a pace very hard to 
exaggerate, and after him rushed Hilary, knowing that his line was 
rather short, and that if it ran out, all was over. Keeping his eyes on 
the water only, and the headlong speed of the fugitive, headlong over 
a stake he fell, and took a deep wound from another stake. Scarcely 
feeling it, up he jumped, lifting his rod, which had fallen flat, and 
fearing to find no strain on it. " Aha, he is not gone yet ! " he cried, 
as the rod bowed like a springle-bow. 

He was now a good hundred yards down the brook from the 
corner where the fight began. Through his swiftness of foot, and 
good management, the fish had never been able to tighten the line 
beyond yield of endurance. The bank had been free from bushes, 
or haply no skill could have saved him ; but now they were to come 
to a corner where a nut bush quite overhung the stream. 

" I am done for, now," said the fisherman ; rt the villain knows too 
well what he is about. Here ends this adventure." 

Full though he was of despair, he jumped anyhow into the water, 
kept the point of his rod close down, reeled up a little as the fish felt 
weaker, and just cleared the drop of the hazel boughs. The water 
flapped into the pockets of his coat, and he saw red streaks flow 
downward. And then he plunged out into an open reach of water 
and gravel slope. 

tf I ought to have you now," he said, " though nobody knows what 
a rogue you are ; and a pretty dance you have led me ! " 

Doubting the strength of his tackle to lift even the dead weight 
of the fish, and much more to meet his despairing rally, he happily 
saw a little shallow gut, or backwater, where a small spring ran out. 
Into this by a dexterous turn he rather led than pulled the fish, who 
was ready to rest for a minute or two ; then he struck his rod into the 
bank, ran down the stream, and with his hat in both hands appeared 
at the only exit of the gut. It was all up now with the monarch of 
the brook. As he skipped and jumped, with his rich yellow belly, 
and chaste silver sides, in the green of the grass, joy and glory of the 
highest merit, and gratitude, glowed in the heart of Lorraine. " Two 
and three quarters you must weigh. And at your very best you are ! 
How small your head is ! And how bright your spots are ! " he cried, 
as he gave him the stroke of grace. tf You really have been a brave 
and fine fellow. I hope they will know how to fry you." 



52 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

While he cut his fly out of this grand trout's mouth, he felt for the 
first time a pain in his knee where the point of the stake had entered 
it. Under the buckle of his breeches blood was soaking away inside 
his gaiters ; then he saw how he had dyed the water. 

Blackmore 

63. A Christmas Carol 

STAVE ONE. MARLEY'S GHOST 

Marley was dead, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever 
about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, 
the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it. 
And Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change for anything he chose 
to put his hand to. 

Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail. 

Scrooge knew he was dead. Of course he did. How could it be 
otherwise ? Scrooge and he had been partners for I do not know how 
many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, 
his sole assign, residuary legatee, his sole friend, his sole mourner. 

Scrooge never painted out old Marley's name, however. There it 
yet stood, years afterwards, above the warehouse door, — Scrooge 
and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Some- 
times people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and some- 
times Marley. He answered to both names. It was all the same to him. 

Oh ! But he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, was Scrooge ! 
a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old 
sinner ! External heat and cold had little influence on him. No 
warmth could warm, no cold could chill him. No wind that blew was 
bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, 
no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know 
where to have him. The heaviest rain and snow and hail and sleet 
could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect, — they 
often ft came down " handsomely, and Scrooge never did. 

Nobody ever stopped him on the streets to say, with gladsome 
looks, " My dear Scrooge, how are you ? When will you come to see 
me? " No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked 
him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life 
inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. 



SPEECH MELODY 53 

But what did Scrooge care ? It was the very thing he liked. 

Once upon a time — of all the good days in the year, upon a 
Christmas eve — old Scrooge sat busy in his counting-house. It was 
cold, bleak, biting, foggy weather ; and the city clocks had only just 
gone three, but it was quite dark already. 

The door of Scrooge's counting-house was open, that he might 
keep his eye upon his clerk, who in a dismal little cell beyond, a sort 
of tank, was copying letters. Scrooge had a very small fire, but the 
clerk's fire was so very much smaller that it looked like one coal. But 
he could n't replenish it, for Scrooge kept the coal-box in his room ; 
and so surely as the clerk came in with the shovel the master pre- 
dicted that it would be necessary for them to part. Wherefore the 
clerk put on his white comforter, and tried to warm himself at the 
candle ; in which effort, not being a man of strong imagination, he 
failed. 

" A merry Christmas, Uncle ! " cried a cheerful voice. It was the 
voice of Scrooge's nephew, who came upon him so quickly that this 
was the first intimation that Scrooge had of his approach. 

" Bah ! humbug ! " 

" Christmas a humbug, Uncle ! You don't mean that I am sure ! " 

" I do. Out upon merry Christmas ! Keep Christmas in your own 
way and let me keep it in mine." 

" Keep it ! But you don't keep it." 

" Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do you ! Much 
good has it ever done you ! " 

" There are many things from which I might have derived good, 
by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas among the rest. 
But I am sure I have always thought of the season as a good time. 
Therefore, Uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in 
my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good ; 
and I say God bless it ! " 

The clerk in the tank involuntarily applauded. 

{t Let me hear another sound from you, and you '11 keep your 
Christmas by losing your situation ! " 

" Don't be angry, Uncle. Come ! Dine with us to-morrow." 

Scrooge said that he would see him — yes, indeed, he did. He 
went the whole length of the expression, and said that he would see 
him in that extremity first. 



54 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" But why ? why ? " 

" Why did you get married? " 

" Because I fell in love." 

" Because you fell in love. Good afternoon ! " 

" Nay, Uncle, but you never came to see me before that happened. 
Why give it as a reason for not coming now ? " 

ft Good afternoon ! " 

tf A merry Christmas, Uncle." 

tc Good afternoon ! " 

ct And a Happy New Year ! " 

" Good afternoon ! *' 

The hour of shutting up the counting-house had arrived. With 
an ill-will Scrooge, dismounting from his stool, tacitly admitted the 
fact to the expectant clerk in the tank, who instantly snuffed his 
candle out, and put on his hat. 

" You '11 want all day to-morrow, I suppose ? " 

" If quite convenient, sir." 

" It 's not convenient, and it 's not fair. If I was to stop half a 
crown for it, you 'd think yourself mightily ill-used, I '11 be bound ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" And yet you don't think me ill-used, when I pay a day's wages 
for no work." 

" It 's only once a year, sir ! " 

" A poor excuse for picking a man's pocket every twenty-fifth of 
December ! But I suppose you must have the whole day. Be here 
all the earlier next morning." 

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern ; 
and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the 
evening with his banker's book, went home to bed. He lived in 
chambers that had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were 
a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of buildings up a yard. 
The building was old enough now, and dreary enough ; for nobody 
lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. 

Now it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the 
knocker on the door of his house, except that it was very large; 
also, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole 
residence in the place ; also, that Scrooge had as little of what is 
called fancy about him as any man in the city of London. And yet 



SPEECH MELODY 5 5 

Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the locker, 
without its undergoing any intermediate process of change, not a 
knocker, but Marley's face. 

As Scrooge looked fixedly at the, phenomenon, it was a knocker 
again. He said, " Pooh, pooh ! " and closed the door with a bang. 

The sound resounded through the house like thunder. He fas- 
tened the door, and walked across the hall, and up the stairs. 
Slowly, too, trimming his candle as he went. Up Scrooge went, not 
caring a button for its being very dark. Darkness is cheap, and 
' Scrooge liked it. But before he shut his heavy door, he walked 
through his rooms to see that all was right. He had just enough 
recollection of the face to desire to do that. Sitting-room, bed-room, 
lumber-room, all as they should be. Quite satisfied, he closed his 
door, and locked himself in ; double-locked himself in, which was 
not his custom. Thus secured against surprise, he took off his cravat, 
put on his dressing-gown and slippers and his nightcap, and sat 
down before the very low fire to take his gruel. 

As he threw his head back in the chair, his glance happened to 
rest upon a bell, that hung in the room, and communicated, for some 
purpose now forgotten, with a chamber in the highest story of the 
building. It was with great astonishment, and with a strange inex- 
plicable dread, that, as he looked, he saw this bell begin to ring. 
Soon it rang out loudly, and so did every bell in the house. 

This was succeeded by a clanking noise, deep down below. Then 
he heard the noise much louder, on the floors below ; then coming 
up the stairs ; then coming straight towards his door. 

It came on through the heavy door, and a spectre passed into 

the room before his eyes. And upon its coming in the dying flame 

leaped up, as though it cried out, " I know him ! Marley's ghost ! " 

The same face, the very same. Marley in his pigtail, usual 

waistcoat, tights and boots. 

" How now ! " said Scrooge, caustic and cold as ever. ' f What do 
you want with me ? " 

rt Much ! "* — Marley's voice, no doubt about it ! 

" Who are you ? *" 

" Ask me who I was ? " 

" Who were you, then? *' 

" In life I was your partner, Jacob Marley." 



56 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" Can you — can you sit down ? " 

" I can." 

{t Do it, then." 

Scrooge asked the question, because he didn't know whether a 
ghost so transparent might find himself in a condition to take a 
chair. But the ghost sat down on the opposite side of the fireplace, 
as if he were quite used to it. 

" You don't believe in me." 

" I don't." 

" Why do you doubt your senses ? " 

" Because a slight disorder of the stomach makes them cheats. 
You may be an undigested bit of beef, or a fragment of an under- 
done potato. There 's more of gravy than of grave about you, 
whatever you are ! " 

Scrooge was not much in the habit of cracking jokes, nor did he 
by any means feel waggish then. The truth is that he tried to be 
smart, as a means of distracting his own attention, and keeping down 
his horror. 

But how much greater was his horror, when, the phantom taking 
off the bandage round its head, as if it were too warm to wear 
indoors, its lower jaw dropped down upon its breast! 

" Mercy ! Dreadful apparition, why do you trouble me ? Why 
do spirits walk the earth, and why do they come to me ? " 

" It is required of every man, that the spirit within him should 
walk abroad among his fellowmen, and travel far and wide ; and if 
that spirit goes not forth in life, it is condemned to do so after 
death. My spirit — mark me ! — in life my spirit never roved be- 
yond the narrow limits of our money-changing hole ; and weary 
journeys lie before me ! " 

" Seven years dead. And traveling all the time ? You travel fast ? " 

" On the wings of the wind." 

" You might have got over a great quantity of ground in seven 
years." 

" O blind man, blind man ! Not to know that no space of regret 
can make amends for one life's opportunities misused ! Yet I was 
like this man ! " 

" But you were always a good man of business, Jacob." 

" Business ! Mankind was my business ; charity, forbearance, 



SPEECH MELODY 57 

mercy, benevolence, the common welfare, were all my business. 
The dealings of my trade were but a drop of water in the compre- 
hensive ocean of my business. I am here to warn you that you 
have yet a chance to escape my fate. A chance and hope of my 
procuring, Ebenezer." 

tc You were always a good friend to me, thank 'ee ! " 

" You will be haunted by three spirits." 

"Is that the chance and hope you mentioned, Jacob? I — I 
think I 'd rather not." 

" Without these visits you cannot hope to shun the path I tread. 
Look to see me no more ; and look that, for your own sake, you 
remember what has passed between us ! " 

It walked backward from him ; and every step it took, the window 
raised itself a little, so that when the apparition reached it, it was 
wide open ; and the spirit floated out upon the air and disappeared. 

Adapted from Dickens 



II. Speech Melody 
Nature of speech melody. Read aloud the two sentences 

Woman, without her man, is a brute ! 
Woman ! without her, man is a brute ! 

If these two sentences are read as punctuated, two matters 
appeal to us : ( 1 ) The vocal utterance has variety in the 
pitch of the tones ; and (2) the variety in pitch responds 
to variety in thought and feeling. In the utterance of 
these two sentences the feeling may be quite similar, but 
there is a great contrast in the thought, a startling con- 
trast, — the one is the direct contradiction of the other. 
The melodic contrast in the form of the vocal expression 
of the two sentences is the powerful means of conveying 
this contrast, this contradiction of thought. Aside from 
the mere words, which may be called the symbolic lan- 
guage, changes in pitch are here shown to be a natural 



58 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

language for conveying intellectual and emotional concepts. 
Speech melody may be defined, then, in two ways, from 
two standpoints: (i) Mechanically or physically it is the 
variation of the pitch of the voice in utterance ; (2) psy- 
chically it is the response in the pitch of the voice to the 
variety of thought and feeling. The intellectual concept 
awakened by this sentence when heard, — " King Charles 
walked and talked a half an hour after his head was cut 
off ! " — is very different from the one awakened by this : 
" King Charles walked and talked ; a half an hour after, 
his head was cut off ! " 

Does emotion, then, have no effect upon the speech 
melody ? The mind is a unit, and any manifestation of 
the mind will carry evidence of every phase of the mind's 
action. As we shall see later, emotion may have a power- 
ful effect upon the speech melody. The character of the 
emotion in the two sentences given below causes a wide 
difference in the range of the voice in the changes of 
pitch : 

Holy ! holy ! holy ! Lord God of Sabaoth ! 

I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, 
Than such a Roman. 

But the concern now is with the thing which is most 
essential in conveying the intellectual phase of the thought. 
For the first need in utterance is to make the thought 
clear. In writing, clearness is a fundamental element 
of style. It is the same in vocal expression. A failure 
to convey the real meaning of the thought is the worst 
kind of speech failure. When the language in which 
the thought is conveyed carries one idea and the speech 
melody expresses another, vocal expression generally has 



SPEECH MELODY 59 

failed of its mission. The first study of the learner in this 
field, then, must be directed to making the thought clear 
through speech melody. Failure to grasp the thought 
must result in failure to give it. Speech melody is logic- 
ally, then, our first object of study in vocal expression ; 
but under normal conditions it must be reached from the 
mind side, not from the body side of utterance. 

Character of the changes in pitch. Changes in pitch 
may occur in two ways : ( 1 ) between syllables and between 
words ; and (2) upon a single syllable or word of one 
syllable. In the sentence, " Woman ! without her, man 
is a brute," the word "woman" is uttered with a fall 
in pitch upon each syllable. To such a change of pitch 
the name Inflection is given. It may be rising, falling, or 
circumflex. Again, between the word "woman" and the 
word "without" there is a change of pitch under normal 
conditions, but the change is effected with the help of a 
period of silence coming between the two pitches. Such 
a change may be either to a higher or to a lower level of 
pitch. To this characteristic vocal action of speech melody 
the name Change of Pitch is given. Other terms might 
be used in naming these modulations of the voice, but 
these are already in general use and will suffice. Change of 
pitch, then, may be defined as the modulation of the voice 
by which it passes, by an interval of silence, from one point 
in its range to another. Similarly, inflection is that mod- 
ulation of the voice in which, during its emission, it passes 
from one point in its range to another. These definitions 
are based upon the mechanical action of the voice. In this 
connection speech melody might be defined as the mod- 
ulation of the vocal utterance which is obtained through 
changes of pitch and inflection. But such definitions fail 



60 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

to convey the full significance of these terms. Changes 
of pitch and inflection are media for the expression of 
thought, feeling, and will ; and speech melody, under 
normal conditions, is the chief medium for the utterance 
of the intellectual phase of the thought. No set words 
can reveal the whole nature of terms which carry such ele- 
mental yet complex significance. 

Laws of speech melody. To define speech melody is 
difficult ; to lay down the laws which govern the form of 
the vocal utterance is a still more serious task. No such 
attempt will be made here. Let us note, however, some 
of the fundamental considerations which affect the form 
of the speech melody. Enough has already been said to 
make it clear that (i) changes of pitch and inflection are 
the natural expression of changes in thought and feeling. 
As the stream of consciousness constantly changes in level, 
so does the vocal expression of it. Again, it should be 
plain, from the illustrations already given, that (2) a rising 
change of pitch or a rising inflection, other things being 
equal, will usually indicate that the thought is incomplete ; 
and that (3) a falling change of pitch or a falling inflec- 
tion will indicate more or less completeness of thought. 
When the thought is complete, the fall is usually complete ; 
that is, it drops to the lowest level of the range of the voice. 
When the fall is only partial, the thought approaches com- 
pletion, or is approximately complete. When there is a 
combination of rising and falling of the voice, as in the 
circumflex inflection, (4) there is usually a twist in the 
thought to be presented ; the words do not contain the whole 
thought, which can find utterance only in the vocalization. 
In example G below, the real meaning is the reverse of 
that which is given, in the mere words. Rising, falling, and 



SPEECH MELODY 



61 



circumflex inflections, while not the only means, are one 
of the most important in rendering a word emphatic. Any 
modulation of the utterance may so serve, but emphasis 
by change of pitch and inflection alone affects the form. 
Speech melody, then, may be considered a process of mak- 
ing salient through form the emphatic words in the utter- 
ance. Emphatic words, for the most part, carry some sort 
of contrast or antithesis which may be either expressed 
or understood. Here are some examples : 

Expressed contrasts : 

A . They were drunk ; not asleep. 



B. O for a soft and gentle wind 





Implied contrasts : 

D. Saratoga is won ! 



F. Must I : 



E. God is our helper ! 



G. You will, will you ? 



62 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

The lines beneath the examples cited are intended to in- 
dicate a possible movement of the voice in change of pitch. 
They do not indicate the only possible way in which the 
voice may vary in speech melody in correctly interpreting 
the thought ; they are suggestions merely. The reader 
will note that in example A there is a rising inflection at 
the close of the sentence. This is due to the fact that the 
real conclusion of the sentence is in the first clause. This 
is made clear by turning the sentence around : They were 
not asleep ; they were drunk ! (5) Contrasts in thought, 
then, may call for a contrast in inflection. Further, it is 
evident from the examples cited that (6) under normal 
conditions no two consecutive words have exactly the same 
pitch ; hence there is an appreciable change in pitch be- 
tween words and upon each vocalized sound. Finally, (7) 
the melodic form of short sentences and of clauses of the 
normal 1 sort gives a series of which there are at least 
three varieties : a straight rise (F), or fall (E), or a com- 
bination of the two (B), (C), or a rise and fall by circum- 
flexes (G). It must be kept in mind, however, that the 
melodic forms as cited are approximations ; they are not 
mechanically accurate. Phonographic records reveal the 
fact that every inflection is more or less circumflexed. But 
they appeal to the ear somewhat as indicated above ; and, 
as shown elsewhere, the seeming impression upon the ear 
is the important thing. 

Rhetorical demands. To secure variety of speech form 
the writer and speaker resort to various expedients. As 

1 Abnormal conditions may reverse the form. We may say, " It is 
true," with the w true " higher in pitch if the thought gives pleasure, 
but much lower in pitch if something revolting or supernatural is 
suggested. 



SPEECH MELODY 63 

shown above, antitheses of one sort or another are com- 
mon. Another device is the mixture of interrogation and 
declaration. Take this familiar illustration from Patrick 
Henry's " Call to Arms." 

They tell us, sir, that we are weak, 

unable to cope with so formidable an adversary ; 

but when shall we be stronger ? 

Will it be the next week, 

or the next year? 

Will it be when we are totally disarmed ? 

and when a British guard shall be stationed in every house ? 

Shall we gather strength by irresolution ? 

and inaction ? 

Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance ? 

by lying supinely upon our backs ? 

and hugging the delusive phantom of hope ? 

until our enemies shall have bound us hand and foot ? 

Sir, we are not weak (etc.) ! 

Note the large number of clauses which demand a rising 
form in speech, and how these increase in number as the 
emotion increases in intensity, until, at last, this repetition 
becomes almost unendurable and prepares the way for, in 
fact makes imperative, the tremendous sweep of the fall- 
ing inflection in which the words "not weak " are actually 
uttered. 

Monopitch. It is clear, now, that under normal condi- 
tions speech will have a constant variety in pitch. Then 
Monopitch, or absence of this change of pitch, usually 
reveals conditions which are in some way abnormal. As 
Lanier, the poet and musician, has pointed out, the little 
child, learning to read, runs along almost wholly on one 
pitch, like this : 

T-h-e — d-o-g — r-a-n — a-f-t-e-r — t-h-e — c-a-t. 



64 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

This will come out slowly and nearly on one level of pitch. 
In this case the mind is absorbed in the word and pays 
not the slightest heed to the thought. This might be called 
a temporary word obsession. It is an abnormal condition. 
As also pointed out by Lanier, the supernatural character of 
the ghost in Hamlet can best be revealed by reading his 
lines in monopitch. So in telling ghost stories the reciter 
avails himself of monopitch to create a proper atmosphere. 
Here again there is something not quite normal. The 
same is true of liturgical reading in our churches : the 
attempt is made to create the feeling of a supernatural 
presence. In some cases, then, monopitch is a serious 
fault ; while in others it may be legitimate, for it reveals 
intellect overwhelmed with emotion, or some other abnor- 
mal state. To divert monopitch from its legitimate function 
is very common. The danger for the liturgical reader is 
that he will become the liturgical preacher, — that his preach- 
ing will become largely monopitch. That such preaching 
is well done is hard to justify. Sometimes the audience 
room is so large, or other conditions in the speaker's sur- 
roundings so abnormal, that monopitch must be employed 
to some extent ; but even here, although the range . of 
pitch is lessened, the general form should not be destroyed. 
In this connection it must be kept in mind that absolute 
monopitch is a physical impossibility ; the general effect 
only is that of monopitch. 

It is interesting to note in this connection that the reci- 
tation of Greek poetry was given to the accompaniment 
of the lyre, and so must have been largely monopitch in 
form. Further, the musical utterances of savages show 
similar peculiarities in form. In fact, as already pointed 
out, the early forms of public speech were communal, and, 



SPEECH MELODY 65 

since any concerted utterance of speech is most easily 
given upon one pitch with singsong and minor cadence, a 
speaker, under the spell of a crowd, tends to revert to the 
communal form. 

Minor cadence. Monopitch is usually and naturally ac- 
companied by a second peculiarity in form, called Minor 
Cadence. This is a change of pitch or inflection where the 
voice passes, by a minor interval, from one point in pitch 
to another. (The term "cadence" is somewhat misleading, 
since the interval may be either a rise or a fall in pitch.) 
Music recognizes at least two important intervals in the 
change of pitch : a major and a minor. In what are called 
major keys the intervals from do to mi and from sol to do 
are major, while minor cadences are of the same length, less 
a half tone (semitone). The effect of the major interval 
is pleasing and cheerful ; of the minor interval, sad and 
mournful. Apply now these facts to speech melody, and 
any change of pitch or inflection may be regarded as a 
minor when the interval is such that it produces a minor 
effect. The word "minor" in this connection stands for 
what is sad. Sadness (not sorrow) destroys the dignity of 
speech. It is conventional. Many contend that it has a 
legitimate place in speech ; but, conceding this, its place 
is with monopitch, justifiable only when abnormal condi- 
tions obtain. It tends to destroy what should be the domi- 
nant note of culture, of appreciation, the note of joy. It 
is the becoming interval in the utterance of pessimism. 
Noble sorrow and genuine pathos will avoid it. 

Singsong. Monopitch and minor cadence are frequently 
and naturally accompanied by a third peculiarity of form 
in the utterance, called singsong. This is the repetition 
of the same speech melody over and over again without 



66 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

regard to the thought and feeling. It marks much of the 
child's reading, especially of poetry, where it affects the 
speech rhythm as well as the melody. Liturgical reading 
for the most part demands it. It is hard to justify the use 
of it in public speaking, and yet if monopitch and minor 
cadence are sometimes legitimate, then singsong, their 
natural accompaniment, must not be placed wholly under 
a ban. 

The cause of these melodic defects. When these pecul- 
iar melodic forms are faults, — and all must concede that 
under certain conditions they may become such, — it is 
because the speaker is not apprehending the full signifi- 
cance of each idea which he utters. To read the Twenty- 
third Psalm with a mournful whine is to misconceive the 
whole spirit of it. As too frequently read, the opening 
clause, "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want," 
seems to give expression to a fact which occasions the 
reader deep regret. But this is evidently not the thought 
of the author, who declares in a most emphatic way that 
the fact that the Lord is his shepherd is a source of infinite 
delight. It renders him fearless and joyful, even though 
he "walk through the valley of the shadow of death." 
"My cup runneth over." With what ? sadness? No! this 
is a lyric of joy ! Any other interpretation spoils it. 

Why is it that speakers so generally fall into such seri- 
ous faults in the form of their speech ? Sometimes it may 
arise from physical limitations. The speaker begins his 
work with an untrained voice. He finds that there is one 
key or pitch upon which he can speak with more ease than 
upon any other, and so he saves his strength and holds 
his audience, if he can, by speaking upon that one pitch. 
Gradually he gains vocal power and might employ a wider 



SPEECH MELODY 67 

range of pitch, but the first habit clings and deforms his 
whole utterance. A second cause may be found in what 
may be called the intellectual limitations of the speaker. 
He fails to grasp the thought at all in its wide significance, 
and unapprehended thought naturally finds expression in 
monopitch and its attendant forms, for variety in thought 
alone demands variety in the vocal utterance. Perhaps the 
explanation which yields the most satisfaction is this, — that 
the speaker is in some way limited in the emotional life of 
his mind. Each new emotional concept which the speaker 
entertains does not awaken a specific and corresponding 
emotion. The mind of the speaker is swamped with one 
mood, which at first may be a genuine feeling, growing out 
of some condition of time or place ; but gradually this emo- 
tion wears off, the genuineness is lost, and a conventional, 
worthless thing is left. 

The pulpit, with its frequent tendency to monopitch, 
minor cadence, and singsong in preaching, is an example 
in point. The desire to create the feeling of the super- 
natural leads to the unnatural. The explanation has been 
offered by a minister that the young preacher, coming to 
his work with a great ambition for service, overwhelmed 
by the realization of the smallness of the results, yields 
gradually to a mood of sadness which deforms his utterance. 

Remedy. But whatever the origin of these forms, from 
the standpoint of vocal expression they must be confined 
to their legitimate use. It must be recognized that a 
speaker who has no variety in his speech form has failed 
to grasp thought and emotion. At times the habits of 
thinking must be revolutionized before the speaker will 
use the forms of speech which at all approximate correct- 
ness. There must be a true adjustment of emotional and 



68 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

intellectual concepts. The intellectual and emotional values 
of each thought must be consciously experienced. 

Hypnotic effects. Some speakers are called magnetic, 
and this epithet is not without its value. There are speak- 
ers who seem to exercise the same sort of influence upon 
an audience as does a singer of great emotional power. 
Usually the thought is not remarkable, but the voice in its 
variety and quality seems to secure the result. It is not 
uncommon to hear a speaker before a popular audience 
use melodies of such weirdness that he appears to be try- 
ing to hypnotize his hearers. The Penetentes of New 
Mexico have been seen beating themselves in a revolting 
and painful manner. They kept to their work with seem- 
ing pleasure under the inspiration of a singsong tune played 
over and over again upon a fife. This tune varied in mel- 
ody but three notes and was only twenty- two notes in length. 
In the drama it is becoming to represent abnormal charac- 
ters with abnormalities of speech, and the most abnormal 
will be that which robs the character of intellectual force 
through the loss of speech melody. Kean, the famous Eng- 
lish actor, is said to have portrayed the savage character of 
Shylock by this method, using a strange, unearthly melodic 
form, as in this sentence quoted as given by Gardiner : 

If I can catch him once upon the hip! 

Ab 7 7 ' 

Idiotic effect. This effect has been already shown in the 
reference to the statement of Mr. Lanier in regard to the 
reading of the little child. This effect is further shown 
by comparing the utterances of persons who use exactly 
the same words 1 : 

1 E. W. Scripture, " Experimental Phonetics" 



SPEECH MELODY 

Utterance by a female voice: 
Comment ! tu n'as pas travaille ! 



{Range, six notes) 



Uttei'atice by a male voice : 
Comment ! tu n'as pas travaille ! 



{Range, foitrteen notes) 

Utterance by a deaf fte?'son : 
Comment ! tu n'as pas travaille ! 

{Range, one note) 

There seems to be some evidence here that speech melody 
serves to reveal the intellectual grasp of the speaker. 

A standard of speech melody. In the face of such a 
variety in the form of utterance of the same words it is 
essential to seek some standard of form in speaking. The 
primary requisites are an adequate apprehension of ideas 
and a thorough experience of emotion. If any condition 
of speech exists where the symbols of thought, the words, 
make little demand upon the mind, and the thoughts and 
emotions have almost unimpeded utterance, there, in all 
likelihood, will be found a fairly good standard of form 
in speaking. Such conditions are most nearly ideal in con- 
versation. In making the form of conversation a standard, 
it does not follow that all conversation is ideal in form, nor 
that the form of a man's public speech should be exactly 
the same as that in which he converses. But the speech 
melody of the average man is better in conversation than 
in public speaking, and the melodic form of speech should 



yo VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

approach in form the melodic curves of conversation. Here, 
however, the difference in relationships must be kept in 
mind. The melodic form of conversation must meet the 
needs of a new relationship, as in the case of stage scenery. 
Every modulation of the voice and utterance must respond 
to the larger environment. This response to the size of the 
audience room makes a command of the whole range of 
voice imperative. Inflections an octave in length are com- 
mon in conversation. They must be equally at command 
in preparation for all kinds of public speaking. The public 
speaker must give as careful heed to the training of his 
voice as does the public singer. Otherwise the speaker 
will be seriously handicapped by malformations in his 
speech tunes. 

The practical work. Theorizing is comparatively easy ; 
doing is hard. To point the way of right doing is not a hard 
task ; to make one's self walk therein is serious business. 
This is especially true of the art of public speaking. The 
technique of the art has unusual dangers for the unwary. 
The inexperienced and ignorant teacher of public speaking 
may be no more in evidence than the vicious instructor in 
any other subject, but the blind teacher of the art of speech 
can work greater havoc. Here a wrong step is frequently 
easier than a right one, and where there are so many bad 
models abroad it is but natural that the innocent and inex- 
perienced learner should be willing to go wrong. But the 
serious difficulty was hinted at in the last paragraph, the 
unwillingness upon the part of the learner to do the work 
thoroughly. Years in any other noble art, zveeks in this ! 
He can talk so as to be understood ; is n't that enough ? 
Surely it is for some students of the art, and the less 
they talk, the better, perchance. But for serious-minded 



SPEECH MELODY 7 I 

students, who realize what a weight in public affairs a 
sincere and able speaker has, there should be years of 
painstaking preparation in the plastic time of mind and 
body life. 

Teaching of speech melody. How shall speech melody 
be taught ? Since it reveals to a great degree the logical 
or illogical working of the mind, there must be logical 
action of the mind before there can be correct speech 
forms. This is the great problem of the teacher : to secure 
clear thinking on the part of the student. This puts a 
large burden upon the instructor. Many an instructor in 
" elocution " is illogical in his own thinking. Instructors 
who themselves have good habits of thought frequently 
yield to laziness. They accede to the desire upon the part 
of the student to "show off"; they seek to secure a cor- 
rect melody in specific " pieces," given in imitation of the 
teacher. This sometimes secures quick results, — a stu- 
dent may be able to render a certain piece fairly well, but 
the work is not fundamental, and his thinking is likely to 
be as illogical as ever. Some students are by nature "wool- 
gatherers," and are hopeless cases from the start. They 
can never do any public speaking of a large and noble 
sort. They may learn in time to do interpretative work of 
a certain feeble kind, and do it fairly well, but even that is 
doubtful. Elocution is in disrepute and can never regain 
public confidence or respect until right methods are sternly 
insisted upon and always used. 

Method illustrated. Let us by way of illustration take 
a specific case in which the student is given a definite 
problem to solve, and not too easy a one ; for instance, 
to read or recite the peroration of Webster's reply to 
Hayne : 



72 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

(An Abhorred Picture) 
When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the 
Sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dis- 
honoured fragments of a once glorious Union ; on States dissevered, 
discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, 
it may be, in fraternal blood ! 

(An Admired Picture) 
Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the gor- 
geous ensign of the republic, now known and honoured throughout 
the Earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in 
their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star 
obscured ; 

(Abhorred) 
bearing for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as, " What 
is all this worth ? " nor those other words of delusion and folly, 
" Liberty first, and Union afterwards " ; 

(Admired) 
but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing 
on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and 
in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to 
every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now and for ever, 
one and inseparable ! 

Nine students out of every ten, if untrained in vocal 
expression, will read this selection with little variation 
in pitch and generally with sadness. Why ? They have 
failed to grasp to the full the intellectual and emotional 
concepts. The form of the utterance, then, will be largely 
monopitch accompanied by minor cadence. How can the 
meaning be made salient and vivid ? Pertinent questions 
may arouse the mind of the reader. He may be led to 
discover that this peroration, when paraphrased, amounts 
to this : When I die, may I not see disunion but union 
everywhere ! He may reduce it still further to, When I die, 



SPEECH MELODY 73 

may I see union ! or, " The union forever ! " With this 
topic in mind he may be led to see that the thought 
naturally divides upon the word " rather," for here occurs 
the main break between the two pictures, union and dis- 
union. Then he may be led to work out for himself the 
dividing lines in the two main divisions of the whole, 
where the speaker turns from what he abhors to what 
he admires, or the reverse. Now why does the average 
speaker use a sad melody in this connection ? Perhaps 
because he has failed to apprehend that this peroration is 
the joyous outburst of the patriot, and specifically he may 
have been influenced by the very first utterance which 
involves the idea of death. 

Such work as the above may prove inadequate in hard 
cases. Several expedients may have to be tried in order to 
awaken his mind to a realization of its work. He can be put 
before the phonograph and made to hear his strange melo- 
dies. A second helpful expedient is to have the "patient" 
sit in a chair and give the selection conversationally, as 
though he were just talking with his teacher. All the above 
goes to show that teaching to speak is primarily teaching to 
think and feel. 

The use of the phonograph. The fact of the existence 
of speech melodies is now well established ; the laws and 
principles which govern them are but slightly understood. 
Many difficulties await the explorer in this field. The 
only safe means of securing and studying voice records is 
a voice-recording machine like the phonograph. Professor 
Scripture, an authority on experimental phonetics, says : 

The pitch of the short-speech sounds is hard to catch by the ear 
because each sound contains many tones which influence the total 
impression, but especially because the pitch is always changing. 



74 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Even from a long sound the ear receives only a vague impression, 
when the pitch is a changing one. These difficulties render it 
impossible to obtain by ear alone any reliable data concerning the 
data of speech. 

This is undoubtedly true from the standpoint of the ex- 
perimental psychologist. Now the student of speaking is 
concerned not so much with the niceties which an accurate 
machine may reveal, as with the actual impression upon 
the ear. A speech which, heard by the unaided ear or 
heard through the phonograph, seems to be of one pitch 
only, is, for the speaker's purpose, monopitch. Before any- 
thing accurate can be known about the melody, Professor 
Scripture insists that the phonograph must be supple- 
mented by a machine which will give an accurate record 
of the niceties of the changing pitch. But the student 
of public speaking does not need these except as a mat- 
ter of curiosity. He desires the general impression which 
an audience would receive. So he may employ the phono- 
graph with success to discover the peculiarities of his 
vocal action. It may embarrass him at first to speak into 
the funnel of the machine, and this will operate to alter 
the habit of his speech ; but practice will remove this 
embarrassment, and actual reproductions of his habits of 
speech will be obtained. In difficult cases, where bad 
habits have been long maintained, nothing will convince 
a student so completely of the bad form of his speech 
tunes as to compel him to hear them over and over again. 
Such records, with the help of a tuning fork, may be 
roughly transferred to the musical staff, where they can be 
studied through the eye. Such demonstrations are some- 
times invaluable in bringing home to the student his 
melodic deficiencies. A phonograph, then, is a laboratory 



SPEECH MELODY 75 

adjunct which it is well to employ as an expedient in 
difficult cases. 

A speech tune by Joseph Jefferson. An interesting ex- 
hibit of vocal action in the melody of speech is given 
herewith. Professor Scripture, in his work upon experi- 
mental phonetics, has taken a gramophone record made 
by the actor, Joseph Jefferson, and reduced the whole to 
numbers which represent the action of the voice in pitch. 
The extract is the famous Toast from the play of " Rip 
Van Winkle." The speaker is supposed to be " under the 
influence of liquor." In the arrangement here presented 
there is an attempt to give a rough view of the tune, so 
far as the melody and time are concerned. The pauses 
are indicated in seconds. The reader will note that the 
record, when reduced to something like mechanical accu- 
racy, seems to indicate impossibilities. For example, that 
any voice could have a range as here indicated ! This 
will help to understand what has already been said, namely, 
that for the public speaker the important phase of the 
matter is the seeming impression upon the ear. Those 
who are interested in the mechanical phase of the matter 
would do well to make a careful study of the details as 
brought out by Professor Scripture in his well-known 
work heretofore referred to. 



ft 



IS 



Come Rip what do you say to a glass ? 



-T^V 



What do I say to a glass? 



j6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 



what do I generally say to a glass ? 



c .06/ 



zfr 



I say it is a fine thing when there 's 



^-^ 




^^" ^\ 






/ 


\ 




X 2.9 


z-\ 


2. 


/ 


\ .13 




\ 


s-\ \ 




/ 


\ 






\1.82\ 




/ 


\ 



plenty in it. (Drinks.) Ha ! So ! You had it 



w \ 



i.2« 7\ Jg 



ten years ago eh? (Drinks.) Ah! that's 



X 



fine schnapps. I would n't keep it as long as that ! 



/-> / 


-N 


7^\ 






7 


\ / ■ 


\ / 


. 2^ 


-—-.12/ 3.-13 /- 


- — v ^ — ^_ 


^^\ ■ 




\/ 




/ / 


\' 







would I ? Huh ! Huh I well, here 's your 



health 



SPEECH MELODY yj 



and your family's and may they live long 




prosper. {Drinks.) 



Voice training for speech melody. It has been pointed 
out that a good melodic speech form demands an equable 
distribution of voice control throughout the whole range 
of voice. The actor whose stage conversation must seem 
natural and yet must be heard in every part of the theater 
should have his voice so developed in all its range as 
to make it carry to any distance demanded. The speaker 
of great emotional power must have sufficient range of 
voice and control over the whole range to make his 
emotions live in real fashion in the minds of his audience. 
But every form of reading and speaking demands, first and 
last and always, that the thought be made clear ; and, other 
things being equal, this can be done in no other way so 
effectively as by utterance through a correct speech melody, 
of a range sufficient, both in kind and in power, to enable 
it to be heard by the remotest listener. There must be no 
unnatural straining. Most speakers begin their public speak- 
ing in a haphazard, accidental sort of way, without effective 
special training. Like the artist in any other noble art, who 
gives his products to the public before he knows how to 



78 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

produce artistically, the average public speaker is liable to 
be a lamentable failure. The best remedy for poor speech 
forms will be found in a stimulation of the mind which 
shall secure a clear apprehension of each intellectual, and a 
full experience of each emotional, concept. Where speech 
forms are fixed by long habit, such expedients as use of 
conversation and the phonograph may have to be resorted 
to. But every effort should be directed to secure forms as 
free and natural as those of conversation. The best results 
cannot be attained unless the voice is so trained that it 
may be used with equal facility throughout its whole range. 
Summary. The mind gives expression to its varied 
action through the melody, quality, rhythm, and dynamics 
of the vocal utterance. The intellectual phase of the utter- 
ance finds expression, for the most part, in melodic form. 
Emotion tends to modify the form in the extent of the 
range of pitch. Absence of melody, monopitch, and the 
peculiar melodic forms known as singsong and minor 
cadence indicate that the mind is probably inactive on 
account of stupidity or inattention, or that the intellectual 
has been subordinated to the emotional phase of the 
thought. This latter may not be out of place in some 
cases, as in liturgical reading, attempts to express the 
supernatural, or in a farcical performance ; but it is out of 
place in most public speaking of real dignity and power. 

III. Vocal Program 

Speech quality, i. With the throat, tongue, and jaw 
completely relaxed utter the sound a easily and naturally. 
Give it on one pitch with a sort of chanting speech. With 
the position thus acquired, utter a different vowel sound, 



SPEECH MELODY 79 

such as i, or e, seeking to keep the same relaxed condition 
of throat and jaw, remembering that the tongue is the 
proper instrument for placing the tone. Employ all the 
vowel sounds in like manner, rejoicing in a pure, rich, easy 
tone. Quality of the right sort from a physical standpoint 
is dependent upon a free resonance. 

2. With the same vocal conditions utter the sentence, 
" Ride on ! the prize is near." (i) Let it be uttered with the 
tremendous roar of battle near, in a vital, physical quality of 
voice. (2) Now let it be given as a mere fact, — the words 
on a sign seen somewhere. (3) Lastly, give it as an utter- 
ance aroused by some spiritual vision, — a moral sentiment 
with lofty spiritual significance, mysterious yet glorious. 

3. Read the following with appreciation of the relation 
between emotional states and sound values : 

A. The league-long roller thundering on the reef. 

B. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll ! 

C. Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes. 

D- I come from haunts of coot and hern, 
I make a sudden sally, 
And sparkle out among the fern, 
To bicker down a valley. 

The reader will note that each one of the above has 
reference to the action and sound of water. There are 
many such, but one more will suffice, one in which the 
thought passes from the streamlet on the mountain side 
to the wave on the vast ocean. 

E. The brooklet came from the mountain, 
As sang the bard of old, 
Running with feet of silver 
Over the sands of gold ! 



SO VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Far away in the briny ocean 

There rolled a turbulent wave, 
Now singing along the sea-beach, 

Now howling along the cave. 

And the brooklet has found the billow, 

Though they flowed so far apart. 
And has filled with its freshness and sweetness 

That turbulent, bitter heart. — Longfellow 

Feel the character of the stroke in this from Shakespeare : 

F. Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, 
Or cut his wezand with thy knife. 

G. Look without, 

Behold the beauty of the day, the shout 
Of color to glad color, — rocks and trees, 
And sun and sea, and wind and sky ! All these 
Are God's expression, art work of his hand, 
Which men must love, ere they can understand. 

Richard Hovey 

4. Practice much on contrasts such as these, assimilat- 
ing the emotional content : 

A. I hate him for he is a Christian. 

B. Holy ! holy ! holy ! Lord God of Sabaoth ! 

C. Full fathom five thy father lies ; 

Of his bones are coral made ; 
Those are pearls that were his eyes : 

Nothing of him that doth fade 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
Into something rich and strange. 
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : 

Burthen. Ding-dong. 
Hark! now I hear them, — Ding-dong, bell. 

Shakespeare 



SPEECH MELODY 8 I 

D. No more dams I '11 make for fish ; 

Nor fetch in firing 
At requiring ; 
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish : 
'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban 
Has a new master : get a new man. 

Shakespeare 

Note how the character of the two creatures supposed 
to utter, the one, C, and the other, D, is revealed in the 
sounds employed by the poet. 

5 . Use as a chant the first exercise for the development 
of speech quality ; that is, destroy the speech melody as far 
as possible, but feel, experience, give fully, freely, joyously 
the emotions through the quality and texture of the tone. 

6. Learn and give memoriter such selections as 6, 7, 
8, 11, 14, and 19 under the practical exercises for quality. 



CHAPTER III 

SPEECH QUALITY 
I. Practical Exercises 

i . Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours ! 

Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare ! 
Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers ! 
Flames, on the windy headland flare ! 
Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire ! 
Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air ! 
Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire ! 
Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher 
Melt into stars for the land's desire ! — Tennyson 

2. Wal naow, Horace, don't ye cry so. Why, I 'm railly con- 
cerned for ye. Why, don't you s'poseyour daddy 's better off? Why, 
sartin / do. — Stowe 

3. March on, my soul, with strength! 

4. Well, well, I 'm glad to see you ! 

5. Ride on ! the prize is near ! 

6. It was an eve of Autumn's holiest mood. 

The corn-fields, bathed in Cynthia's silver light, 
Stood ready for the reaper's gathering hand ; 
And all the winds slept soundly. — Pollok 

7. Suddenly the notes of the deep-laboring organ burst upon the 
ear, falling with doubled and redoubled intensity, and rolling, as it 
were, huge billows of sound. — Irving 

8. How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here? 
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes 

That shapes this monstrous apparition. 
82 



SPEECH QUALITY 83 

It comes upon me. Art thou any thing ? 
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, 
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare? 
Speak to me what thou art. — Shakespeare 

9. Dear master, I can go no further : 
O, I die for food ! Here lie I down, 
And measure out my grave. Farewell, kind master. 

Shakespeare 

10. Mend and charge home, 

Or, by the fires of heaven, I '11 leave the foe 
And make my wars on you : look to 't : come on ! 

Shakespeare 

1 1 . Come live with me, and be my love. 

12. And in the hush that followed the prayer, 
Was heard the old clock on the stair, — 

" Forever — never ! 

Never — forever ! " — Longfellow 

13. It seems but yesterday that I was here, 

A lamb among the wolves, a stricken deer ; 
But now I am the Queen of hill and dale, 
And every cottage welcomes Lorna's tale ! 
No gift was this, no power the rest above, 
But simply that I loved what others love — 
The warmth of heart no frosty airs can chill, 
The strength of justice tempered by good-will ; 
A simple life that follows Nature's befit, 
And flows melodious with its own conte?it ; 
Where men think less of coronets than corn, 
And gather all they need where they were born — 
Brave wanderer of the West, if thou art fain 
For peace like this, accept my pastoral strain. 

Blackmore 

14. Hark, hark ! the lark at heaven's gate sings, 

And Phoebus 'gins arise, 
His steeds to water at those springs 
On chaliced flowers that lies ; 



84 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

And winking Mary-buds begin 

To ope their golden eyes : 
With every thing that pretty is, 

My lady sweet, arise : 

Arise, arise. — Shakespeare 

15. The Rainbow comes and goes, 
And lovely is the Rose, 

The Moon doth with delight 
Look round her when the heavens are bare ; 
Waters on a starry night 
Are beautiful and fair ; 
The sunshine is a glorious birth ; 
But yet I know, where'er I go, 
That there hath past away a glory from the earth. 

Wordsworth 

16. In the golden lightning 

Of the sunken sun, 
O'er which clouds are bright'ning, 
Thou dost float and run ; 
.Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. 

Shelley 

1 7. Swiftly walk o'er the western wave, 

Spirit of Night ! 
Out of the misty eastern cave 

Where, all the long and lone daylight, 
Thou wo vest dreams of joy and fear 
Which make thee terrible and dear, — 

Swift be thy flight ! — Shelley 

18. Such a starved bank of moss till, that May-morn, 
Blue ran the flash across : violets were born ! 
Sky — what a scowl of cloud till, near and far, 
Ray on ray split the shroud : splendid, a star ! 
World — how it walled about life with disgrace 
Till God's own smile came out : that was thy face ! 

Browning 

19. One moment now may give us more than years of toiling 
reason : our minds shall drink at every pore the spirit of the season. 



SPEECH QUALITY 85 

The House Beautiful 

A naked house, a naked moor, 

A shivering pool before the door, 

A garden bare of flowers and fruit, 

And poplars at the garden foot, — 

Such is the place that I live in, 

Bleak without and bare within. 

Yet shall yon ragged moor receive 

The incomparable pomp of eve, 

And the cold glories of the dawn 

Behind your shivering trees be drawn ; 

And when the wind from place to place 

Doth the unmoored cloud-galleons chase, 

Your garden gleam and gloom again, 

With leaping sun, with dancing rain. 

Here shall the wizard moon ascend 

The heavens, in the crimson end 

Of day's declining splendor ; here 

The army of the stars appear. 

The neighbor hollows dry or wet, 

Spring shall with tender flowers beset; 

And oft the morning muser see 

Larks rising from the broomy lea, 

And every fairy wheel and thread 

Of cobweb dew-bediamonded. 

When daisies go, shall winter time 

Silver the simple grass with rime, 

Autumnal frosts enchant the pool 

And make the cart-ruts beautiful. 

And when snow-bright the moor expands, 

How shall your children clap their hands ! 

To make this earth, our hermitage, 

A cheerful and a pleasant page, 

God's bright and intricate device 

Of days and seasons doth suffice, — Stevenson 



86 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

2 1 . Where shall we lay the man whom we deplore ? 
Here, in streaming London's central roar. 

Let the sound of those he wrought for, 
And the feet of those he fought for, 
Echo round his bones for evermore. 

Lead out the pageant : sad and slow, 

As fits an universal woe, 

Let the long long procession go, 

And let the sorrowing crowd about it grow, 

And let the mournful martial music blow ; 

The last great Englishman is low. — Tennyson 

22. There is sweet music here that softer falls 
Than petals from blown roses on the grass, 
Or night-dews on still waters between walls 
Of shadowy granite, in a gleaming pass ; 
Music that gentlier on the spirit lies, 
Than tir'd eyelids upon tir'd eyes ; 

Music that brings sweet sleep down from the blissful skies. 

Here are cool mosses deep, 

And thro' the moss the ivies creep, 

And in the stream the long-leaved flowers weep, 

And from the craggy ledge the poppy hangs in sleep. 

Why are we weigh'd upon with heaviness, 

And utterly consumed with sharp distress, 

While all things else have rest from weariness ? 

All things have rest : why should we toil alone, 

We only toil, who are the first of things, 

And make perpetual moan, 

Still from one sorrow to another thrown : 

Nor ever fold our wings, 

And cease from wanderings,. . . 

Nor steep our brows in slumber's holy balm ; 

Nor hearken what the inner spirit sings, • - 

" There is no joy but calm ! " 

Why should we only toil, the roof and crown of things ? 



SPEECH QUALITY 87 

How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream, 

With half -shut eyes ever to seem 

Falling asleep in a half-dream ! 

To dream and dream, like yonder amber light, 

Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height ; 

To hear each other's whisper'd speech ; 

Eating the Lotos day by day, 

To watch the crisping ripples on the beach, 

And tender curving lines of creamy spray ; 

To lend our hearts and spirits wholly 

To the influence of mild-minded melancholy ; 

To muse and brood and live again in memory, 

With those old faces of our infancy 

Heap'd over with a mound of grass, 

Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass ! 

Tennyson 



23. Sir Galahad 

My good blade carves the casques of men, 

My tough lance thrusteth sure, 
My strength is as the strength of ten, 

Because my heart is pure. 
The shattering trumpet shrilleth high, 

The hard brands shiver on the steel, 
The splinter'd spear-shafts crack and fly. 

The horse and rider reel : 
They reel, they roll in clanging lists, 

And when the tide of combat stands. 
Perfume and flowers fall in showers, 

That lightly rain from ladies' hands. 

How sweet are looks that ladies bend 
On whom their favours fall ! 

For them I battle till the end, 
To save from shame and thrall : 

But all my heart is drawn above, 

My knees are bow'd in crypt and shrine : 



88 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

I never felt the kiss of love, 
Nor maiden's hand in mine. 

More bounteous aspects on me beam, 
Me mightier transports move and thrill ; 

So keep I fair thro' faith and prayer 
A virgin heart in work and will. 



A maiden knight — to me is given 

Such hope, I know not fear ; 
I yearn to breathe the airs of heaven 

That often meet me here. 
I muse on joy that will not cease, 

Pure spaces clothed in living beams, 
Pure lilies of eternal peace, 

Whose odours haunt my dreams ; 
And, stricken by an angel's hand, 

This mortal armour that I wear, 
This weight and size, this heart and eyes, 

Are touch'd, are turn'd to finest air. 

The clouds are broken in the sky, 

And thro' the mountain-walls 
A rolling organ-harmony 

Swells up, and shakes and falls. 
Then move the trees, the copses nod, 

Wings flutter, voices hover clear : 
" O just and faithful knight of God ! 

Ride on ! the prize is near." 
So pass I hostel, hall, and grange ; 

By bridge and ford, by park and pale, 
All-arm'd I ride, whate'er betide, 

Until I find the holy Grail. — Tennyson 

24. It was a quiet Sunday morning on a side street. A playful 
breeze had lifted off the tarpaulin that covered the news-stand, and 
the magazines were enjoying a quiet hour by themselves. 

Harpers took occasion to edge away from McChere^s. 



SPEECH QUALITY 89 

" Your cheapness makes me dizzy," it observed, with a superior sniff. 

" My cheapness is nothing to your dullness," exclaimed McClure's 
with some heat. 

"Nonsense!" replied Harper's. "Why, I once published an 
interesting story." 

A chorus of groans greeted this admission. 

"The trouble with you fellows," observed the Century, "is that 
you do not really understand the serious side of life." 

" How can we," observed the Metropolitan, " for we have not, 
like you, a humorous department ? We — " 

There was a commotion. While these observations were going 
on Munsey's and Everybody's were having a dispute. 

" I publish sillier stuff than you," said Munsey's. 

" I defy you to prove it," said Everybody's. 

" Let's form a ring and have them fight it out," suggested a rank 
outsider — the Clipper. 

At this, however, there was a protest from one hitherto silent. A 
soft soprano voice spoke. 

" Gentlemen, would you fight in the presence of ladies ? " 

Whereupon the rest of the magazines took off their hats, and one 
by one relapsed into respectful silence, as The Ladies' Home Journal, 
arranging its skirts anew with gentle precision, passed out on its 
way to church. — Tom Masson in Life 

25. The class which has hitherto ruled in this country has failed 
miserably. It revels in power and wealth, whilst at his feet, a terrible 
peril for its future, lies the multitude which it has neglected. If a 
class has failed, let us try the nation. 

That is our faith, that is our purpose, that is our cry. Let us try 
the nation. This it is which has called together these countless num- 
bers of the people to demand a change ; and from the gatherings, 
sublime in their vastness and their resolution, I think I see, as it 
were, above the hill-tops of time, the glimmerings of the dawn of a 
better and a nobler day for the country and the people that I love 
so well. — John Bright 

26. All hail, Columbus, discoverer, dreamer, hero and apostle ! 
We here, of everv race and countrv. recognize the horizon which 



go VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

bounded his vision and the infinite scope of his genius. The voice 
of gratitude and praise for all the blessings which have been 
showered upon mankind by adventure is limited to no language, but 
is uttered in every tongue. Neither brass nor marble can fitly form 
his statue. Continents are his monument, and unnumbered millions, 
past, present, and to come, who enjoy in their liberties and their 
happiness the fruits of his faith, will reverently guard and preserve, 
from century to century, his name and fame. 

27. I catch another vision. The crisis of battle — a soldier struck, 
staggering, fallen. I see a slave scuffling through the smoke, wind- 
ing his black arms about the fallen form, reckless of the hurtling 
death, bending his trusty face to catch the words that tremble on 
the stricken lips, so wrestling meantime with agony that- he would 
lay down his life in his master's stead. I see him by the weary bed- 
side, ministering with uncomplaining patience, praying with all his 
humble heart that God will lift his master up, until death comes in 
mercy and in honor to still the soldier's agony and seal the soldier's 
life. I see him by the open grave, mute, motionless, uncovered, suf- 
fering for the death of him who in life fought against his freedom. 

I see him when the mound is heaped and the great drama of 
his life is closed, turn away and with downcast eyes and uncertain 
step start out into new and strange fields, faltering, struggling, but 
moving on, until his shambling figure is lost in the light of this 
better and brighter day. And from the grave comes a voice, saying : 
" Follow him ! Put your arms about him in his need, even as he 
once put his about me. Be his friend, as he was mine." And out 
into this new world — strange to me as to him, dazzling, bewildering 
both — I follow. And may God forget my people when they forget 
these ! — Grady 

28. The people arose, and leaped upon the benches, and shouted 
and screamed. Those who looked that way caught glimpses of 
Messala, now under the trampling of the fours, now under the 
abandoned cars. He was still ; they thought him dead ; but far the 
greater number followed Ben Hur in his career. They had not seen 
the cunning touch of the reins by which, turning a little to the left, 
he caught Messala's wheel with the iron-shod point of his axle, and 



SPEECH QUALITY 9 1 

crushed it ; but they had seen the transformation of the man, and 
themselves felt the heat and glow of his spirit, the heroic resolution, 
the maddening energy of action with which, by look, word, and 
gesture, he so suddenly inspired his Arabs. And such running ! It 
was rather the long leaping of lions in harness ; but for the lumber- 
ing chariot, it seemed the four were flying. When the Byzantine 
and Corinthian were half-way down the course Ben Hur turned the 
first goal. AND THE RACE WAS WON ! — Wallace 

29. Has the gentleman done ? Has he completely done ? He was 
unparliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. . . . 
But I did not call him to order, — why ? because the limited talents 
of some men render it impossible for them to be severe without being 
unparliamentary. But before I sit down I shall show him how to be 
severe and parliamentary at the same time. . . . 

The right-honourable gentleman has called me " an unimpeached 
traitor." I ask why not "traitor," unqualified by any epithet? I will 
tell him : it was because he durst not. It was the act of a coward, 
who raises his arm to strike, but has not courage to give the 
blow. I will not call him villain, because it would be unparliamentary, 
and he is a Privy Counsellor. I will not call him fool, because he 
happens to be Chancellor of the Exchequer. But I say, he is one 
who has abused the privilege of parliament, and the freedom of de- 
bate, by uttering language which, if spoken out of the House, I should 
answer only with a blow. I care not how high his situation, how 
low his character, how contemptible his speech ; whether a Privy 
Counsellor or a parasite, my answer would be a blow. — Grattan 

30. England 

The clock in the tower of the village church had just struck the 
quarter. In the southeast a pale dawn light was beginning to show 
above the curving hollow of the down wherein the village lay en- 
folded ; but the face of the down itself was still in darkness. Farther 
to the south, in a stretch of clear night sky hardly touched by the 
mounting dawn, Venus shone enthroned, so large and brilliant, so 
near to earth and the spectator, that she held, she pervaded the 
whole dusky scene, the shadowed fields and wintry woods, as though 
she were their very soul and voice. 



92 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" The Star of Bethlehem ! — and Christmas day ! " 

Diana Mallory had just drawn back the curtain of her bedroom. 
Her voice, as she murmured the words, was full of a joyous delight ; 
eagerness and yearning expressed themselves in her bending attitude, 
her parted lips, and eyes intent upon the star. 

The panelled room behind her was dimly lit by a solitary candle, 
just kindled. The faint dawn in front, the flickering candle-light 
behind, illumined Diana's tall figure, wrapped in a white dressing 
gown, her small head and slender neck, the tumbling masses of her 
dark hair, and the hand holding the curtain. It was a kind and 
poetic light ; but her youth and grace needed no softening. 

After the striking of the quarter, the church bell began to ring, 
with a gentle and yet insistent note which gradually filled the hollows 
of the village and echoed along the sides of the down. Once or 
twice the sound was effaced by the rush and roar of a distant train ; 
and once the call of an owl from the wood — a call melancholy and 
prolonged — was raised as though in rivalry. But the bell held 
Diana's strained ear throughout its course, till its mild clangor passed 
into the deeper note of the clock striking the hour, and then all 
sounds alike died into a profound yet listening silence. 

"Eight o'clock! That was for early service," she thought; and 
there flashed into her mind an image of the old parish church, 
dimly lit for the Christmas Eucharist, its walls and pillars decorated 
with ivy and holly, yet austere and cold through all its adornings, 
with its bare walls and pale windows. She shivered a little, for her 
youth had been accustomed to churches all color and lights and fur- 
nishings, churches of another type and faith. But instantly some 
warm leaping instinct met the shrinking and overpowered it. She 
smote her hands together. 

" England ! — England ! — ■ my own, my own country ! " 

She dropped upon the window-seat, half laughing, yet the tears 
in her eyes. And there, with her face pressed against the glass, she 
waited while the dawn stole upon the night, while in the park the 
trees emerged upon the grass white with rime, while, on the face of 
the down, thickets and paths became slowly visible, while the first 
wreaths of smoke began to curl and hover in the frosty air. 

Suddenly, on a path which climbed the hillside till it was lost in 
the beech-wood which crowned the summit, she saw a flock of sheep, 



SPEECH QUALITY 93 

and behind them a shepherd boy running from side to side. At the 
sight, her eyes kindled again. " Nothing changes," she thought, 
" in this country life ! " On the morning of Charles I's execution, — 
in the winters and spring when Elizabeth was Queen, — while 
Becket lay dead on Canterbury's steps, — when Harold was on his 
way to Senlac, ■ — that hill, that path were there, — sheep were 
climbing it, and shepherds were herding them. tf It has been so 
since England began — it will be so when I am dead. We are only 
shadows that pass. But England lives always — always, — and shall 
live ! " — Mrs. Humphry Ward, in " The Testing of Diana Mallory." 

Copyright, 1Q07, Harper and Brothers 

31 Charley Johnson's Fine 

{The scene is laid in the dingy, ill-smelli?ig court room which is 
the anteroo?n of the city jail. A drowsy warden, seated at his desk, 
is reading his belated paper. A girl comes in noiselessly at left a?id 
stands eyeing the man before she speaks?) 

Girl. Say, haven't you about finished reading the ads ? No won- 
der you go to sleep. Guess you are n't interested in the police court 
news, are you ? 

Warde?i. Guess you are, or you would n't be here. What are you 
looking for ? 

Girl. My, my ! Ain't you sociable? That 's my business and the 
warden's. Run and get your pa, sonny. 

Warden. Well, I guess I '11 have to do ; I 'm the warden. 

Girl. You ? I always thought they was prize fighters. 

Warden. Oh, go on ! What do you want ? 

Girl. Oh, ain't he sassy ! Now, see here, Mr. Warden, — if you 
really are Mr. Warden, — such a nice little man as you — I got a 
paper here which says give up a man you 've got, — where 'd I put 
it? {She fishes a?'ou?idi?i herbage Where in the mischief is it ? Oh, 
I know ! {She takes it from her bosom and hands it to him.) 

Warden {examini?ig if). Gee ! a hundred dollars ! You must 
have wanted him pretty bad. 

Girl. I know what I want and when I do I don't kick at paying 
for it. Now all I got to do is to take him and go out with this, ain't 
it? I keep this, do I, or do I hand it in? 



94 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Warden. Well, you brought it, didn't you? You might keep it 
to put in his stocking next Christmas. 

Girl. You 're real cute. You are hanging up your stockings still ? 
Of course I know I paid for it. Do you think I could pay out a hun- 
dred dollars in a trance ? 

Warden. You sign here, Tottie, under Charley Johnson. Looks 
like a marriage license, don't it ? 

Girl. Now, see here, none of your impudence, Mr. Man. You just 
go on and attend to your end of the business and I '11 hold up mine. 
Now what do I do ? 

Warden (chuckling and pointing to a chair). You just wait here 
in the parlor and I '11 bring down the groom. 

Girl. Well, now, run along. (She starts to sit down, then turns.) 
Oh, see here ! You don't have to come back with him, do you? 

Warden. Why? 

Girl. Because, you understand, I — I — have n't seen him for a 
year or so, and he might n't — or I might n't — Oh, well, what 's the 
use of having anybody round rubbering ? 

Warden (^winking). Oh, that 's the way, is it ? It hurts my 
feelings, your not wanting to see me again. Well, I won't take the 
edge off the picnic. I '11 send him down alone. Say, you're all right, 
any way. 

Girl. So kind of you. Of course, I know I 'm the real thing. 
But I might n't think he is. He may have got a little shop-worn since 
the last time he was on the show-case, and I might be sorry I 'd 
bought the goods. 

Warden. H'm ! That ain't no dream. Since you came down your- 
self with the release, looks as if you were afraid he 'd get out and 
you could whistle for him. 

Girl. Oh ! think you 're foxy, don't you ? But I guess you don't 
know me. When I buy a man, it's got to be C. O.D. He might 
fall off the wagon on the way to the house. Many a man has fallen 
off the wagon when you least expected it. 

Warden. Well, you don't need to waste the hundred, if you 
change your mind, you know. Specially as you can have me for that, 
though I doubt if you 'd allow me elbow room. 

Girl. So kind of you, but really, I 've bought all the goods lately 
I can manage. If you want somebody to buy you — (titters) — why 



SPEECH QUALITY 95 

don't you apply to the circus — to carry lemonade. Now, run along, 
but don't go off mad. 

{The warde7i goes off whistling. She listens for a mojnent, then 
tries the door, then paces restlessly and when farthest from the door 
it suddenly opens and a ma?i enters. The girl rushes and with a cry 
of joy hurls herself upon hi?n.) 

Girl. Charley ! Charley ! (She looks up and discovers that she 
does not know the man.) Oh ! I beg your pardon ! 

fohnson. {Extends his arms theatrically ■.) Sadie ! Sadie ! 

Sadie. Well, that 's my name. 

fohnson. Don't you know me ? Have I changed so ? I 'm 
Charley. 

Sadie. Charley ! Charley who ? 

fohnson. Johnson. 

Sadie. Charley Johnson ! 

fohnson {hurriedly). How can I ever thank you ! If you knew — 

Sadie. I know all I want to about you. I know you 're not him. 

fohnson. I — I 've grown a beard since you saw me. That changes 
a man a lot. 

Sadie. Rats ! Where is Charley ? What are you trying to string 
me for ? Have you put up a game on him ? Ain't he here ? 

fohnson. But I 'm Charley, Sadie. Only a year makes a differ- 
ence. I 'm a changed man, inside as well as out. 

Sadie {coming closer and scrutinizing pertly). I don't know 
anything about your insides, and what 's more, I don't want to know. 
You 're not Charley Johnson. What do you think you are trying 
to do? 

fohnson. How would I know who you were and all about you? 

Sadie. Give it up. W nat do you know about me ? 

fohnson. You came here in answer to some letters, didn't you? 

Sadie. Ye-es, though I don't know as it 's any business of yours. 

fohnson. Seven letters in four weeks? 

Sadie. All begging me to pay his fine. 

fohnson. They said, t! advance." 

Sadie. Well, advance. We all know what a man means when he 
says that. H'm ! he never wrote me the whole year, till he wanted 
me to do something for him. 

fohnson. But, Sade — 



96 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Sadie. Don't you call me Sade. Charley used to call me that. 
I 'm Sadie to you and all the rest of the world. Understand, just 
plain Sadie! Where 's Charley? How 'd you know about his writing 
to me? 

Johnson. I tell you, Sade, — Sadie, I — my beard — 

Sadie. Oh, cut your old beard. You look about enough like him 
to be his sixth cousin on his step-mother's side. Are you going to tell 
me, or are n't you ? Say, you are n't doing this fool stunt to prepare 
me for something, are you ? He ain't sick — or anything ? 

Johnson. Only with being in jail. I don't look sick, do I ? 

Sadie. Well, you make me sick, anyway. Do you think I have 
nothing to do but stand round and play with you all day ? I 've had 
all of this I want. Chuck it! you understand? Is he here? 

Johnson. No ! 

Sadie. No ! Why, what did he write me those letters for ? Where 
is he ? Has n't he been here ? What did you say you was him for ? 
My heavens, haven't you got anything to say? Can't you talk 
through that old beard of yours ? How 'd you know about me ? 

Johnson. He used to be a pal of mine. Before I got in. 

Sadie. Then Charley ain't here ? Then — ■ why — then it was a 
lie he wrote me about going to Frisco last year and coming back to 
marry me and getting into jail by mistake. All that ain't so ? Then 
he just — shook — he just shook me after all. 

Johnson {slowly). Yes, that 's what he did. 

Sadie. How do you know? What do you know about him 
anyway ? 

Johnson. He told me about you before he went away two 
months ago. 

Sadie. Two J Two months ago ? 

Johnson. And he told me that — 

Sadie. That what ? 

Johnson. That he was tired of you. 

Sadie. Oh, he did, did he? H'm ! Guess he wasn't half as tired 
of me as I was of him. His room was better than his company, I can 
tell you. If he told you to tell me all this, you can tell him I was just 
tickled to death when he legged it. 

Johnson. I guess it was a good thing for you that he did. Charley 
was n't any good. 



SPEECH QUALITY 9/ 

Sadie. Oh, he was n't, was n't he ? I can tell you he was worth 
ten of you. You 're a pretty thing to be running him down. I can 
tell you whatever Charley was, he was not a jail bird. 

Johnson {bitterly). That's just what — . Oh, what's the use? 
It 's all over now ! 

Sadie. What did he do ? 

Johnson. He — beat his wife ! 

Sadie. His — ? Say, what do you expect to get out of this string 
of lies ? You 're a nice one to believe. You 're a Sunday-school 
superintendent, you are. You 're in jail, yourself, and you lied to me 
and cheated me, besides. I expect you beat your own wife ; that 's 
why you thought of it. — Will you swear to me that 's the truth ? 

Johnson. Yes. 

Sadie {suddenly convinced). His wife ! And he beat her ! And 
that 's the man I was going to buy off — whose fine I paid. 

Johnson. You've paid? 

Sadie. Yes, paid. Much good may it do him ! 

Johnson. You've paid Charley Johnson's fine? 

Sadie {storming). Yes, if you want to know. More fool I ! 
There ain't any Charley Johnson, and there ain't any fine ! There 's 
his release. I came to take him away, and he made a monkey of me. 
To take him away ! (Sods.) 

Johnson. Don't do that, please — please ! I *ve got something to 
tell you: 

Sadie. Well, what is it, any more sweet news ? 

Johnson. I — I am known in this jail as Charley Johnson. 

Sadie. You? What on earth are you talking about? I don't 
believe you. 

Johnson. Well, why did the warden send me down here ? Do you 
suppose they let us promenade all over the shop — just to take the 
air — when we get tired of our snug little rooms ? 

Sadie. Thenyou wrote me all of those letters and begged me to 
pay your fine and get you out. And you 've never seen me before 
in all your life ! — Well ! well ! I like your nerve ! Say, you thought 
I was a nice easy thing, did n't you ? Even if it did take seven letters 
for me to make up my mind. Oh. you knew I 'd come round in 
time, did n't you ? I was a bird. I was. Oh. you could work me 
nicely, could n't you ? Oh, yes, us women — us fools ! Tell us any 



98 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

cock-and-bull story you can hatch up, and work on Our feelings, and 
we '11 come round all right. And ycu know we '11 come round. You 
count on it beforehand. Oh! oh! I hate the sight of you all! I — I 
— {Starts for the door, and snatching at the paper, is about to 
tear it.) 

Johnson. Where are you going? 

Sadie. To get my money back. You cost a hundred dollars, and 
you ain't worth thirty cents ! But you are not out yet, I can tell you. 
I 've called your pretty little game. You never thought such a softie 
as me 'd come herself to inspect the goods, did you ? And if I 'd let 
them send down the release instead of bringing it, you 'd have been 
all right. I suppose you 'd have skipped and I 'd never seen you 
again. Oh, no, but I wanted to see Charley first and give him the 
paper out of my own hands. I wanted — oh, it makes me sick ! 

Joh?ison. Listen to me, won't you ? 

Sadie. Listen to you ? I would n't believe a word you said on 
oath. 

Johnson. I know it was a dirty trick I played on you, but I swear 
I was going to see you and tell you all about it — afterward. 

Sadie. Afterward ? Well, thank Heaven, there ain't going to be 
any afterward for you. You can stay here till you die for all I care. 
And Charley Johnson, too. I wish it was him instead. No, I wish 
you and him was both of you rolled into one, like you oughter be ! 
so you might stay here and — take root. Oh, it makes me sick. 
Good-by. 
Johnson (authoritatively). Come back ! 

Sadie. Come back ! Yes, I '11 come back. I '11 have your sentence 
increased for getting money under false pretences. That 's what I '11 
do. To squeeze a hundred dollars out of a girl like me ! 

Johnsoji. I knew you 'd have to scrape the money together. I 
hated to think of that. 

Sadie. You hated to think of that, did you ? Listen to him, listen 
to mama's darling. He hated to think of a poor girl scraping her 
fingers off for him ! 

Johnson. I swear that I '11 pay you back. I '11 work for you day 
and night. And I '11 bring you some of the money right off — to- 
night, if — if — 

Sadie. If what? 



SPEECH QUALITY 99 

Johnson. If anybody will believe what I tell them. 

Sadie. Well, if they do they are wonders. 

Johnson {dully). Yes. 

Sadie. What are you in for ? 

Johnson. For beating my wife. 

Sadie. What? You? (Laughs hysterically) Is that what you 
all do ? Say, could n't you have made up a new one to tell me ? 
You had lots of time. And I was almost believing you. 

Johnson. Well, that 's what I 'm in for. You can look it up in 
the book if you don't believe me. Well, I 've been in two months, 
yesterday. 

Sadie. Oh ! {She starts to go) 

Johnson {despairingly). You can't go now ! Listen ! I 'm afraid 
my sister is dying. She was sick, and I have n't heard from her, and 
she was all alone. I 've got to go to her. 

Sadie. I don't know whether you 're lying now and telling the 
truth then, or lying then and telling the truth now. But you and 
your lies don't seem to hang together some way. Tell me one thing 
— where is Charley Johnson? 

Johnson. I don't know. In Frisco, I hope to God, for the rest 
of his miserable life. 

Sadie {whisfteiing). What did he do to you ? 

Johnson. He was my sister's husband — 

Sadie. Your sister's ? Then he was married. 

Johnson. One day he beat her — and I almost killed him. But I 
gathered him up, and bought him a ticket and sent him to Frisco. 
Then I went home to my sister. There was a cop there, bringing 
her to when I got back. Some one had said that her husband had 
beaten her insensible, and — 

Sadie. Well ? Well ? 

Joh?ison. And I told him I had. 

Sadie. You? Why? 

Johnson. I did n't want him brought back, you understand. 

Sadie. But — still I don't see how — ? 

Johnson. Then when I got to jail I said I was her husband, 
Charley Johnson, and let it go at that. She was in the hospital and 
no one was there. I thought if I told them the}- might bring him 
back and I didn't want him round any more to pester my sister. 



lOO VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Then when she got out of the hospital she came to see him — and 
found me. And she 's been trying to scrape up enough to pay my 
fine — I got six months or a hundred dollars to keep the peace. Any 
rate she 's sick again, and I 'd just got to see her in some way. 
Charley told me about you, and I just kept thinking about it. And 
you know what I did. That 's all. 

Sadie {inarticulately). Oh! — Oh! — And I thought you were 
like him only worse. And you — all the time — oh, it makes me sick! 

Johnson. And now you know you believe in me? 

Sadie {shouting). Yes, I believe in you ! I did n't think there 
was a man like that in the world. Oh, it makes me sick ! 

Johnso?i. I swear I '11 pay you back, I swear I will. Will you — 
will you take me out? 

Sadie. Take you out? In a minute ! I 'd take you anywhere and 
be glad of the chance, I don't care if you never pay me back. 

Johns 07i. If you take me out it will be as Charley Johnson. 

Sadie. I don't care what it '11 be as. It 's you I 'm taking out. 

Johnson. And — Charley Johnson wrote you he never seen the 
girl fit to black your shoes, and he 'd marry you if you 'd have him. 

Sadie. If you 're Charley Johnson, the first thing for you to do is 
to get out of this old jail. 

Warde?i {coming in grinning). Of course — 

Sadie. No, we 're not going to stay here all night talking. 

Mr. Warde?i. Come, Charley ! — From Collier's 

Copyright, IQ07, by P. F. Collier & Son. Reprinted by permission. 

32. Elaine the fair, Elaine the lovable, 
Elaine, the lily maid of Astolat, 
High in her chamber up a tower to the east 
Guarded the sacred shield of Lancelot ; 
Which first she placed where morning's earliest ray 
Might strike it, and awake her with the gleam ; 
Then fearing rust or soilure fashion'd for it 
A case of silk, and braided thereupon 
All the devices blazon'd on the shield 
In their own tinct, and added, of her wit, 
A border fantasy of branch and flower, 



SPEECH QUALITY IOI 

And yellow-throated nestling in the nest. 
Nor rested thus content, but day by day, 
Leaving her household and good father, climb' d 
That eastern tower, and entering barrd her door, 
Stript off the case, and read the naked shield, 
Now guess'd a hidden meaning in his arms, 
Now made a pretty history to herself 
Of every dint a sword had beaten in it, 
And every scratch a lance had made upon it, 
Conjecturing when and where : this cut is fresh ; 
That ten years back ; this dealt him at Caerlyle ; 
That at Caerleon ; this at Camelot : 
And ah God's mercy, what a stroke was there ! 
And here a thrust that might have kill'd, but God 
Broke the strong lance, and roll'd his enemy down, 
And saved him : so she lived in fantasy. — Tennyson 

33. Ladies atidGe?itle?}ie?i : I feel somewhat jealous of my brother, 
Friar Austin, to-night. He had to propose an easy toast. I think I 
could have attempted the praise of woman, whose name I cannot 
hear without wanting to take off my hat. I have to attempt the praise 
of man, and I do not feel equal to it. 

Well, we are not quite so bad as we are painted sometimes. I be- 
lieve that half the lies that are told about men are not true. We are 
in the habit of running ourselves down, to summon women to our 
help, but we do not believe a word of it. We are very much like 
those English people who at church call themselves miserable sinners, 
and who would knock down on the spot any one who would take 
them at their word on coming out of church. 

Now, the attitude of men towards women is very different, accord- 
ing to the different nations to which they belong. You will find a 
good illustration of that different attitude of men towards women in 
France, in England, and in America, if you go to the dining-rooms 
of their hotels. You go to the dining-room, and you take, if you can, 
a seat near the entrance door, and you watch the arrival of the couples, 
and also watch them as they cross the room and go to the table which 
is assigned to them by the head waiter. Now, in Europe, you would 
find a very polite head waiter, who invites you to go in, and asks 



102 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

you where you will sit ; but in America the head waiter is a most 
magnificent potentate, who lies in wait for you at the door, and bids 
you to follow him, sometimes in the following respectful manner 
beckoning, " There ! " And you have got to do it, too. 

I traveled six times in America, and I never saw a man so daring 
as not to sit there. In the tremendous hotels of the large cities, where 
you go to number 992, or something of the sort, I generally got a 
little entertainment out of the head waiter. He is so thoroughly per- 
suaded that it would never enter my head not to follow him he will 
never look round to see if I am there. Why, he knows that I am 
there, but I 'm not. I wait my time, and when he has got to the end 
I am sitting down waiting for a chance to be left alone. He says, 
ct You cannot sit here." I say : " Why not? What is the matter with 
this seat? " He says : " You must not sit there." I say : " I don't 
want a constitutional walk; don't bother, I 'm all right." Once, in- 
deed, after an article in the North American Review, — for your 
head waiter in America reads reviews, — a head waiter told me to 
sit where I pleased. I said : " Now, wait a minute, give me time to 
realize that; do I understand that in this hotel I am going to sit 
where I please ? " He said, " Certainly ! " He was in earnest. I said, 
"All right, come with me." When I came out there were some news- 
paper people waiting for me, and it was reported in half a column in 
one of the papers, with one of those charming headlines which are 
so characteristic of American journalism, "Max sits where he likes! " 
Well, I said, you go to the dining-room, you take your seat, and you 
watch the arrival of the couples, and you will know the position of 
men. In France Monsieur and Madame come in together abreast, 
as a rule arm in arm. They look pleasant, smile and talk to each 
other. They smile at each other, even though married. 

In England, in the same class of hotel, John Bull comes in first. 
He does not look happy. John Bull loves privacy. He does not like 
to be obliged to eat in the presence of lots of people who have not 
been introduced to him, and he thinks it very hard that he should 
not have the whole dining-room to himself. That man, though, mind 
you, in his own house undoubtedly the most hospitable, the most 
kind, the most considerate of hosts in the world, that man in the 
dining-room of a hotel always comes in with a frown. He does not 
like it, he grumbles, and mild and demure, with her hands hanging 



SPEECH QUALITY 103 

down, modestly follows Mrs. John Bull. But in America, behold 
the arrival of Mrs. Jonathan. Behold her triumphant entry, pulling 
Jonathan behind ! Well, I like my own country, and I cannot help 
thinking that the proper and right way is the French. Ladies, you 
know all our shortcomings. Our hearts are exposed ever since the 
rib that covered them was taken off. Yet we ask you kindly to allow 
us to go through life with you, like the French, arm in arm, in good 
friendship and camaraderie. — Blouet in response to toast " Monsieur 
and Madame." 

Reprinted with consent of John D. Morris &* Company, Publishers, Philadelphia 

34. The Romance of the Swan's Nest 

Little Ellie sits alone 

'Mid the beeches of a meadow, 
By a streamside on the grass, 
And the trees are showering down 
Doubles of their leaves in shadow 
On her shining hair and face. 

She has thrown her bonnet by, 

And her feet she has been dipping 
In the shallow water's flow : 
Now she holds them nakedly 

In her hands, all sleek and dripping. 
While she rocketh to and fro. 

Little Ellie sits alone, 

And the smile she softly uses 
Fills the silence like a speech, 
While she thinks what shall be done. 
And the sweetest pleasure chooses 
For her future within reach. 

Little Ellie in her smile 

Chooses — ct I will have a lover 
Riding on a steed of steeds : 
He shall love me without guile, 
And to him I will discover 

The swan's nest among the reeds. 



104 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" And the steed shall be red-roan, 
And the lover shall be noble, 

"With an eye that takes the breath 
And the lute he plays upon 
Shall strike ladies into trouble, 

As his sword strikes men to death. 

" And the steed it shall be shod 
All in silver, housed in azure, 

And the mane shall swim the wind : 
And the hoofs along the sod 

Shall flash onward and keep measure, 
Till the shepherds look behind. 

" But my lover will not prize 
All the glory that he rides in, 
When he gazes in my face : 
He will say, ' O Love, thine eyes 
Build the shrine my soul abides in, 
And I kneel here for thy grace ! ' 

" Then, ay, then he shall kneel low. 
With the red-roan steed anear him 
Which shall seem to understand, 
Till I answer, f Rise and go ! 

For the world must love and fear him 
"Whom I gift with heart and hand." 

" Then he will arise so pale, 
I shall feel my own lips tremble 
With a yes I must not say, 
Xathless maiden-brave, ' Farewell." 
I will utter, and dissemble — 
' Light to-morrow with to-day ! ' 

" Then he "11 ride among the hills 
To the wide world past the river. 
There to put away all wrong; 



SPEECH QUALITY 105 

To make straight distorted wills, 
And to empty the broad quiver 
Which the wicked bear along. 

" Three times shall a young foot-page 

Swim the stream and climb the mountain 
And kneel down beside my feet — 
( Lo, my master sends this gage, 
Lady, for thy pity's counting ! 
What wilt thou exchange for it ? ' 

Cf And the first time I will send 
A white rosebud for a guerdon, 
And the second time, a glove ; 
But the third time — I may bend 

From my pride, and answer — ' Pardon 
If he comes to take my love.' 

" Then the young foot-page will run, 
Then my lover will ride faster, 
Till he kneeleth at my knee : 
'lama duke's eldest son, 

Thousand serfs do call me master, 
But, O Love, I love but thee ! ' 

" He will kiss me on the mouth 
Then, and lead me as a lover 

Through the crowds that praise his deeds ; 
And. when soul-tied by one troth, 
Unto him I will discover 

That swan's nest among the reeds. " 

Little Ellie, with her smile 
Not yet ended, rose up gaily, 

Tied the bonnet, donned the shoe, 
And went homeward, round a mile, 
Just to see, as she did daily, 

What more eggs were with the two. 



106 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Pushing through the elm-tree copse, 
Winding up the stream, light-hearted, 
Where the osier pathway leads, 
Past the boughs she stoops — and stops. 
Lo, the wild swan had deserted, 
And a rat had gnawed the reeds ! 

Ellie went home sad and slow. 
If she found the lover ever, 

With his red-roan steed of steeds, 
Sooth I know not ; but I know 

She could never show him — never, 
That swan's nest among the reeds ! 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 



35. My Star 

All that I know 

Of a certain star 
Is, it can throw 

(Like the angled spar) 
Now a dart of red, 

Now a dart of blue ; 
Till my friends have said 
They would fain see, too, 
My star that dartles the red and the blue ! 
Then it stops like a bird ; like a flower, hangs furled : 

They must solace themselves with the Saturn above it. 
What matter to me if their star is a world ? 

Mine has opened its soul to me ; therefore I love it. 

Robert Browning 

36. My Last Duchess 

FERRARA 

That 's my last Duchess painted on the wall, 

Looking as if she were alive. I call 

That piece a wonder, now : Fra Pandolf's hands 



SPEECH QUALITY 107 

Worked busily a day, and there she stands. 

Will 't please you sit and look at her ? I said 

" Fra. Pandolf " by design, for never read 

Strangers like you that pictured countenance, 

The depth and passion of its earnest glance, 

But to myself they turned (since none puts by 

The curtain I have drawn for you, but I) 

And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst, 

How such a glance came there ; so, not the first 

Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 't was not 

Her husband's presence only, called that spot 

Of joy into the Duchess' cheek : perhaps 

Fra. Pandolf chanced to say, " Her mantle laps 

Over my lady's wrist too much," or rt Paint 

Must never hope to reproduce the faint 

" Half-flush that dies along her throat " : such stuff 

Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough 

For calling up that spot of joy. She had 

A heart — how shall I say? — too soon made glad, 

Too easily impressed : she liked whate"er 

She looked on, and her looks went everywhere. 

Sir, 't was all one ! My favor at her breast, 

The dropping of the daylight in the West, 

The bough of cherries some officious fool 

Broke in the orchard for her, the white mule 

She rode with round the terrace — all and each 

Would draw from her alike the approving speech. 

Or blush, at least. She thanked men, — good ! but thanked 

Somehow — I know not how — as if she ranked 

My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name 

With anybody's gift. Who 'd stoop to blame 

This sort of trifling ? Even had you skill 

In speech — (which I have not) — to make your will 

Quite clear to such an one, and say, " Just this 

Or that in you disgusts me ; here you miss. 

Or there exceed the mark " — and if she let 

Herself be lessoned so, nor plainly set 

Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse, 



I08 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

— E'en then would be some stooping ; and I choose 

Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt, 

Whene'er I passed her ; but who passed without 

Much the same smile ? This grew ; I gave commands ; 

Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands 

As if alive. Will 't please you rise? We '11 meet 

The company below, then. I repeat, 

The Count your master's known munificence 

Is ample warrant that no just pretence 

Of mine for dowry will be disallowed ; 

Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed 

At starting, is my object. Nay, we '11 go 

Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though, 

Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity, 

Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me ! 

Browning 

3 7 . Work 

What is wise work, and what is foolish work ? What is the differ- 
ence between sense and nonsense, in daily occupation? There are 
three tests of wise work : — that it must be honest, useful, and 
cheerful. 

It is Honest. I hardly know anything more strange than that you 
recognize honesty in play, and not so in work. In your lightest 
games, you have always some one to see what you call " fair-play." 
In boxing, you must hit fair; in racing, start fair. Your English 
watchword is tf fair-play," your English hatred ct foul-play." Did it 
never strike you that you wanted another watchword also, " fair- 
work" and another and bitterer hatred, " iov\-work " ? 

Then wise work is Useful. No man minds, or ought to mind, its 
being hard, if only it comes to something ; but when it is hard and 
comes to nothing, when all our bees' business turns to spiders', and 
for honey-comb we have only resultant cob-web, blown away by the 
next breeze, — that is the cruel thing for the worker. Yet do we 
ever ask ourselves, personally, or even nationally, whether our work 
is coming to anything or not? 

Then wise work is Cheerful, as a child's work is. Everybody in 
this room has been taught to pray daily, " Thy Kingdom come." 



SPEECH QUALITY IOQ 

Now if we hear a man swearing in the streets we think it very 
wrong, and say he "takes God's name in vain." But there's a 
twenty times worse way of taking his name in vain than that. It is 
to ask God for what we do not want. If you don't want a thing 
don't ask for it ; such asking is the worst mockery of your King 
you can insult Him with. If you do not wish for His Kingdom, 
don't pray for it. But if you do, you must do more than pray for 
it; you must work for it. And, to work for it, you must know 
what it is. 

Observe, it is a Kingdom that is to come to us ; we are not to go 
to it. Also that it is not to come all at once, but quietly ; nobody 
knows how. " The Kingdom of God cometh not with observation." 
Also, it is not to come outside of us, but in our hearts : " The 
Kingdom of God is within you." Now if we want to work for this 
Kingdom, and to bring it, and to enter into it, there 's one curious 
condition to be first accepted. We must enter into it as children, or 
not at all : " Whosoever will not receive it as a little child shall not 
enter therein." And again, ?t Suffer little children to come unto me, 
and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdo7?i of Heaven.' 1 ' 1 

Of such, observe. Not of children themselves, but of such as 
children. It is the character of children we must want and gain. It 
is modest, faithful, loving, and because of all these characters it is 
cheerful. Putting its trust in its father, it is careful for nothing — 
being full of love to every creature, it is happy always, whether in 
its play or in its duty. Well, that 's the great worker's character 
also. Taking no thought for the morrow ; taking thought only for 
the duty of the day ; knowing indeed what labor is, and always 
ready for play — beautiful play. — John Ruskin 

Reprinted by permission of Longmans, Green &* Co. 

38. The Heroic Element in Modern Life 

The age of heroism is gone, it is said ; this is the era of gain. 
'• Principles, laws, companies take the place of heroes." True, under 
the deadly stroke of Cervantes's satire, medieval chivalry gave up the 
ghost, but heroism did not die with the lunatic of La Mancha. Nor 
need the hero of to-day borrow aught from the old-time myth or 
tale of chivalric strife. His is heroism higher and nobler than ever 



IIO VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

fought with dragons, or tilted at tournament. It is a heroism bend- 
ing its magnificent energies to the welfare of mankind. It is a 
heroism that discovers worlds and penetrates wild continents ; 
" makes the elements servitors of commerce and manufactures " ; 
binds in unity the great hemispheres and puts the good news of 
eternal life into the very heart of heathen barbarism. In comparison 
with a practical and beneficent heroism like this, that of the mythical 
Greeks shrinks almost to rrieanness. Wandering Ulysses makes a 
sorry figure by the side of a Livingstone or a Stanley, aad even the 
patience of a Prometheus is more than matched by the tireless zeal 
of a Humboldt or an Agassiz. 

In all literature worthy of the name, the hero wins the title by 
conduct generous, simple, unselfish, and brave. The heart of man- 
kind finds that true heroism must be rooted in self-sacrifice. Thus, 
whatever age produces an unselfish soul gives to the world a hero. 
Because blind James Lambert lived in our time, shall the title of 
hero be denied this brave swimmer of the Clyde, who from its 
waters saved more than forty lives, simply, as he said, " for the 
sweetness of it?" If self-sacrifice be the test of heroism, shall the 
title of hero be denied Bret Hart's Flynn of Virginia, who gave up 
his life for his married comrade's sake ? — 

There in the drift, 

Back to the wall, 

He held the timber 

Ready to fall. 

Then in the darkness 

I heard him call, 

ff Run for your wife's sake ; 

Don't wait for me ! " 

And that was all, 

Heard in the din, 

Heard of Tom Flynn, 

Flynn of Virginia. 

Not of the training of a Sidney or Raleigh are such heroes as James 
Lambert or Flynn of Virginia, but it is the glory of the heroism of 
to-day that it is found as often in the humbler walks and shady vales 
of life as on its loftier heights and sunnier slopes. 



SPEECH QUALITY I 1 1 

With our war's glorious record of a Sheridan and a Jackson, of 
brave Joe Hooker fighting above the clouds, of gallant Lee giving 
all to his state, there comes the story of many a nameless hero's 
valiant deed, — deeds like that of the brave boy at Fort Wagner 
who, when the color sergeant was shot down, sprang forward, caught 
the flag, and carried it onward, up the dangerous height, up the 
path of death, through shot and shell, up to the wall of the fort, on 
the very wall itself, planting it where the men made that brief but 
splendid stand, then melted before that furnace heat. At last, when 
the shattered ranks fell back, he too, mortally wounded by a bayonet 
thrust, worked his way downward, still holding aloft the flag, bent 
on saving it as flag had rarely if ever been saved before. Slowly, 
painfully, he dragged himself downward, step by step, down the hill, 
inch by inch across the ground, to the door of the hospital tent, and 
there, while dying eyes brightened, while dying men held back their 
souls from eternity to cheer him, gasped out. tf I did but do my 
duty, boys, and the dear old flag never once touched the ground ! " 
The age of heroism gone by ! Comfort and gain the only thoughts 
of the present ! No ! no ! the ancient myth is gone, the romance of 
chivalry is gone, but not the courageous, helpful deed, not the 
self-sacrificing performance of duty, not the heroism that makes 
bright the lives of the discoverer, the missionary, the reformer, the 
philanthropist. — Anonymous 

39. The True L^se of Wealth 

There is a saying which is in all good men's mouths : namely, 
that they are stewards or ministers of whatever talents are entrusted 
to them. Only, is it not a strange thing that while we more or less 
accept the meaning of that saying, so long as it is considered meta- 
phorical, we never accept its meaning in its own terms ? You know 
that the lesson is given us under the form of a story about money. 
Money was given to the servants to make use of : the unprofitable 
servant dug in the earth, and hid his Lord's money. Well, we in 
our poetical and spiritual applications of this, say that of course 
money does n't mean money — it means wit, it means intellect, it 
means influence in high quarters, it means everything in the world 
except itself. 



112 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

And do you not see what a pretty and pleasant come-off there is 
for most of us in this spiritual application? Of course, if we had 
wit, we would use it for the good of our fellow-creatures ; but we 
have n't wit. Of course, if we had influence with the bishops, we 
would use it for the good of the church ; but we have n't any in- 
fluence with the bishops. Of course, if we had political power, we 
would use it for the good of the nation ; but we have no political 
power; we have no talents entrusted to us of any sort or kind. It is 
true we have a little money, but the parable can't possibly mean 
anything so vulgar as money ; our money 's our own. 

I believe if you think seriously of this matter you will feel that 
the first and most literal application is just as necessary a one as any 
other — that the story does very specially mean what it says, — plain 
money ; and that the reason we don't at once believe so, is a sort 
of tacit idea that while thought, wit, and intellect, and all power 
of birth and position, are indeed given to us, and, therefore, to be 
laid out for the Giver, — our wealth has not been given to us ; but 
we have worked for it, and have a right to spend it as we choose. I 
think you will find that is the real substance of our understanding 
in the matter. Beauty, we say, is given by God — it is a talent ; 
strength is given by God — it is a talent ; but money is proper 
wages for our day's work — it is not a talent, it is a due. We may 
justly spend it on ourselves, if we have worked for it. 

And there would be some shadow of excuse for this, were it not 
that the very power of making the money is itself only one of the 
applications of that intellect or strength which we confess to be tal- 
ents. Why is one man richer than another ? Because he is more in- 
dustrious, more persevering, and more sagacious. Well, who made 
him more persevering and more sagacious than others ? That power 
of endurance, that quickness of apprehension, that calmness of judg- 
ment, which enables him to seize opportunities that others lose, and 
persist in the lines of conduct in which others fail, — are these not 
talents ? — are they not, in the present state of the world, among the 
most distinguished and influential of mental gifts ? 

And is it not wonderful, that while we would be utterly ashamed 
to use a superiority of body in order to thrust our weaker companions 
aside from some place of advantage, we unhesitatingly use our supe- 
riorities of mind to thrust them back from whatever good that strength 



SPEECH QUALITY 113 

of mind can attain ? You would be indignant if you saw a strong 
man walk into a theater or lecture-room, and calmly choosing the 
best place, take his feeble neighbor by the shoulder, and turn him 
out of it into the back seats or the street. You would be equally in- 
dignant if you saw a stout fellow thrust himself up to a table where 
some hungry children are being fed, and reach his arm over their 
heads and take their bread from them. 

But you are not in the least indignant, if, when a man has stoutness 
of thought and swiftness of capacity, and, instead of being long-armed 
only, has the much greater gift of being long-headed — you think it 
perfectly just that he should use his intellect to take the bread out 
of the mouths of all other men in the town who are in the same 
trade with him ; or use his breadth and sweep of sight to gather 
some branch of the commerce of the country into one great cobweb, 
of which he is himself the central spider, making every thread 
vibrate with the points of his claws, and commanding every avenue 
with the facets of his eyes. You see no injustice in this. 

But there is injustice ; and, let us trust, one of which honorable 
men will at no very distant day disdain to be guilty. In some degree, 
however, it is indeed not unjust ; in some degree it is necessary and 
intended. It is assuredly just that idleness should be surpassed by 
energy ; that the widest influence should be possessed by those who 
are best able to wield it ; and that a wise man, at the end of his 
career, should be better off than a fool. But for that reason, is the 
fool to be wretched, utterly crushed down, and left in all the suffer- 
ing which his conduct and capacity inflict ? Not so. 

What do you suppose fools were made for? That you might 
tread upon them, and get the better of them in every possible way ? 
By no means. They were made that wise people might take care of 
them. That is the true and plain fact concerning the relations of 
every strong and wise man to the world about him. He has his 
strength given him, not that he may crush the weak, but that he may 
support and guide them. In his own household he is to be the guide 
and support of his children ; out of his household he is to be the 
father, that is, the guide and support, of the weak and the poor; 
not merely of the meritoriously weak and the innocently poor, but 
of the guilty and punishably poor ; of the men who ought to have 
known better — of the poor who ought to be ashamed of themselves. 



114 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

It is nothing to give pension and cottage to the widow who has 
lost her son ; it is nothing to give food and medicine to the work- 
man who has broken his arm, or the decrepit woman wasting in 
sickness. But it is something to use your time and strength in war 
with the waywardness and thoughtlessness of mankind ; to keep the 
erring workman in your service till you have made him an unerring 
one ; and to direct your fellow-merchant to the opportunity which 
his dullness would have. lost. 

This is much ; but it is yet more when you have fully achieved 
the superiority which is due to you, and acquired the wealth which 
is the fitting reward of your sagacity, if you solemnly accept the re- 
sponsibility of it, as it is the helm and guide of labor far and near. 
For you have it in your hands, are in reality the pilots of the power 
and effort of the State. It is entrusted to you as an authority to be 
used for good or evil, just as completely as kingly authority was ever 
given to a prince, or military command to a captain. And according 
to the quantity of it you have in your hands, you are arbiters of the 
will and work of the nation ; and the whole issue, whether the work 
of the State shall suffice for the State, depends upon you. 

You may stretch out your scepter over the heads of the laborers, 
and say to them as they stoop to its waving, " Subdue this obstacle 
that has baffled our fathers ; put away this plague that consumes 
our children ; water these dry places, plough these desert ones, carry 
this food to those who are in hunger ; carry this light to those who 
are in darkness ; carry this life to those who are in death " ; or on 
the other side you may say : " Here am I ; this power is in my hand ; 
come, build a mound here for me to be throned upon, high and wide ; 
come, make crowns for my head, that men may see them shine from 
far away ; come, weave tapestries for my feet, that I may tread softly 
on the silk and purple ; come, dance before me, that I may be gay ; 
and sing sweetly to me, that I may slumber; so shall I live in joy, 
and die in honor." And better than such an honorable death it were, 
that the day had perished wherein we were born. 

I trust that in a little while there will be few of our rich men, who, 
through carelessness or covetousness, thus forfeit the glorious office 
which is intended for their hands. I said, just now, that wealth ill- 
used is as the net of the spider, entangling and destroying: but 
wealth well-used, is as the net of the sacred Fisher who gathers souls 



SPEECH QUALITY 1 15 

of men out of the deep. A time will come — I do not think it is far 
from us — when this golden net of the world's wealth will be spread 
abroad as the flaming meshes of the morning cloud over the sky ; 
bearing with them the joy of light and the dew of the morning, as 
well as the summons to honorable and peaceful toil. — Ruskin 

By permission of Longmazis, Green &= Co. 

40. LOCHINVAR 

Oh ! young Lochinvar is come out of the west, 
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best ; 
And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, 
He rode all unarmed and he rode all alone. 
So faithful in love and so dauntless in war, 
There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. 

He stayed not for brake and he stopped not for stone, 

He swam the Eske river where ford there was none ; 

But ere he alighted at Netherby gate 

The bride had consented, the gallant came late : 

For a laggard in love and a dastard in war 

Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, 

Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all : 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword, — 

For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word, — 

t( Oh ! come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lochinvar ? " — 

tr I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied ; 
Love swells like the Sol way, but ebbs like its tide — 
And now am I come, with this lost love of mine. 
To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. 
There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far. 
That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar."' 

The bride kissed the goblet ; the knight took it up. 
He quaffed off the wine, and he threw down the cup. 



Il6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

She looked down to blush, and she looked up to sigh, 
With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. 
He took her soft hand ere her mother could bar, — 
" Now tread we a measure ! " said young Lochinvar. 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 

That never a hall such a galliard did grace ; 

While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 

And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; 

And the bride-maidens whispered, ?t 'T were better by far 

To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar." 

One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, 

When they reached the hall-door, and the charger stood near ; 

So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 

So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! 

ct She is won ! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur ; 

They '11 have fleet steeds that follow," quoth young Lochinvar. 

There was mounting 'mong Graemes of the Netherby clan ; 

Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran : 

There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, 

But the lost bride of Netherby ne'er did they see. 

So daring in love and so dauntless in war, 

Have ye e'er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar ? — Scott 

41. Two Callings 

1 
I hear a deep voice through uneasy dreaming, 

A deep, soft, tender, soul-beguiling voice ; 
A lulling voice that bids the dreams remain. 
That calms my restlessness and dulls my pain, 
That thrills and fills and holds me till in seeming 
There is no other sound on earth — no choice. 

" Home! " says the deep voice, ft Home ! " and softly singing 

Brings me a sense of safety unsurpassed ; 
So old ! so old ! The piles above the wave — 



SPEECH QUALITY 117 

The shelter of the stone-blocked, shadowy cave — ■ 
Security of sun-kissed treetops swinging — 
Safety and home at last ! 

" Home " says the sweet voice, and warm comfort rises, 

Holding my soul with velvet-fingered hands ; 
Comfort of leafy lair and lapping fur, 
Soft couches, cushions, curtains, and the stir 
Of easy pleasures that the body prizes, 

Of soft, swift feet to serve the least commands. 

I shrink — half rise — and then it murmurs " Duty ! " 

Again the past rolls out — a scroll unfurled ; 
Allegiance and long labor due my lord — 
Allegiance in an idleness abhorred — 
I am the squaw — the slave — • the harem beauty — 

I serve and serve, the handmaid of the world. 

My soul rebels — but hark ! a new note thrilling, 
Deep, deep, past finding — I protest no more ; 

The voice says " Love ! " and all those ages dim 

Stand glorified and justified in him ; 

I bow — I kneel — the woman soul is- willing — 
" Love is the law. Be still ! Obey ! Adore ! " 

And then — ah, then ! The deep voice murmurs " Mother ! " 

And all life answers from the primal sea ; 
A mingling of all lullabies ; a peace 
That asks no understanding ; the release 
Of nature's holiest power — who seeks another? 

Home? Home is Mother — Mother, Home — to me. 

" Home ! " says the deep voice ; " Home and Easy Pleasure ! 

Safety and Comfort, Laws of Life well kept ! 
Love ! " and my heart rose thrilling at the word ; 
t? Mother ! " it nestled down and never stirred ; 
" Duty and Peace and Love beyond all measure ! 

Home ! Safety ! Comfort ! Mother ! " — and I slept. 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

II 

A bugle call ! A clear, keen, ringing cry, 
Relentless — eloquent — that found the ear 

Through fold on fold of slumber, sweet, profound — 

A widening wave of universal sound, 

Piercing the heart — filling the utmost sky — 

I wake — I must wake ! Hear — for I must hear ! 

" The world ! The world is crying ! Hear its needs ! 

Home is a part of life — I am the whole ! 
Home is the cradle — shall a whole life stay 
Cradled in comfort through the working day ? 
I too am Home — the Home of all high deeds — 

The only Home to hold the human soul ! 

?t Courage ! — the front of conscious life ! " it cried ; 

" Courage that dares to die and dares to live ! 
Why should you profit of safety? Is life meant 
In ignominious safety to be spent ? 
Is Home best valued as a place to hide ? 

Come out, and give what you are here to give ! 

" Strength and Endurance ! of high action born ! " 
And all the dream of comfort shrank away, 

Turning its fond, beguiling face aside : 

So Selfishness and Luxury and Pride 

Stood forth revealed, till I grew fierce with scorn, 
And burned to meet the dangers of the day. 

" Duty ? Aye, Duty ! Duty ! Mark the word ! " 
.1 turned to my old standard. It was rent 

From hem to hem, and through the gaping place 

I saw my undone duties to the race 

Of man — neglected — spurned — how had I heard 
That word and never dreamed of what it meant ! 

ft Duty ! Unlimited — eternal — new ! " 

And I ? My idol on a petty shrine 
Fell as I turned, and Cowardice and Sloth 



SPEECH QUALITY 119 

Fell too, unmasked, false Duty covering both — 
While the true Duty, all-embracing, high, 
Showed the clear line of noble deeds to do. 

And then the great voice rang out to the sun, 

And all my terror left me, all my shame, 
While every dream of joy from earliest youth 
Came back and lived ! — that joy unhoped was truth, 
All joy, all hope, all truth, all peace grew one, 

Life opened clear, and Love ! Love was its name ! 

So when the great word : * Mother ! " rang once more, 

I saw at last its meaning and its place ; 
Not the blind passion of the brooding past. 
But Mother — the World's Mother — come at last, 
To love as she had never loved before — 

To feed and guard and teach the human race. 

The world was full of music clear and high ! 

The world was full of light ! The world was free ! 
And I ? Awake at last, in joy untold, 
Saw Love and Duty broad as life unrolled — 
Wide as the earth — unbounded as the sky — 

Home was the World — the World was Home to me. 

Charlotte Perkins StetsOx\ in " The Home " 
Published &> Copyrighted by McClure, Phillips &-> Co. 

42. A Scene from David Copperfield 

Note. The scene opens in the lodgings of Mr. and Mrs. Micawber. 
Mr. Micawber at this time is suffering under what he terms " a temporary 
pressure of pecuniary liabilities," and is out looking for something to 
turn up. 

Mrs. Micawber is at home attending to the twins, one of whom she 
is holding in her arms ; the other is in the cradle nearby, and several of 
the children are scattered about the floor. She has been bothered all the 
morning by the calling of creditors ; — at last she speaks, as she trots 
the babe. 

Mrs. Micawber (impatiently). Well, I wonder how many more 
times they will be calling ! However, it 's their fault. If Micawber's 



120 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

creditors won't give him time, they must take the consequences. Oh ! 
there is some one knocking now ! I believe that 's Mr. Heep's knock. 
It is Mr. Heep ! Come in, Mr. Heep. We are very glad to see you. 
Come right in. 

Heep. Is Mr. Micawber in ? 

Mrs. Micawber. No, Mr. Heep. Mr. Micawber has gone out. 
We make no stranger of you, Mr. Heep, so I don't mind telling you 
Mr. Micawber's affairs have reached a crisis. With the exception of 
a heel of Dutch cheese, which is not adapted to the wants of a young 
family, — and including the twins, — there is nothing to eat in the 
house. 

Heep. How dreadful ! {Aside) The very man for my purpose. 

(At this moment there is a noise heard on the landing. Micawber 
himself rushes into the room, slamming the door behind him.) 

Micawber (not seeing Heep). The clouds have gathered, the storm 
has broken, and the thunderbolt has fallen on the devoted head of 
Wilkins Micawber ! Emma, my dear, the die is cast. All is over. 
Leave me in my misery ! 

Mrs. Micawber. I '11 never desert Mr. Micawber ! 

Micawber. In the words of the immortal Plato, " It must be so, 
Cato ! " But no man is without a friend when he is possessed of courage 
and shaving materials : Emma, my love, fetch me my razors ! (Re- 
covers himself) sh — sh ! We are not alone ! (Gayly) Oh, Mr. Heep ! 
Delighted to see you, my young friend ! Ah, my dear young attorney- 
general, in prospective, if I had only known you when my troubles 
commenced, my creditors would have been a great deal better man- 
aged than they were ! You will pardon the momentary laceration of 
a wounded spirit, made sensitive by a recent collision with a minion 
of the law, — in short, with a ribald turncock attached to the water- 
works. Emma, my love, our supply of water has been cut off. Hope 
has sunk beneath the horizon ! Bring me a pint of laudanum ! 

Heep. Mr. Micawber, would you be willing to tell me the amount 
of your indebtedness ? 

Micawber. It is only a small amount for nutriment, beef, mutton, 
etc., some trifle, seven and six pence ha'penny. 

Heep. I '11 pay it for you. 

Micawber. My dear friend ! You overpower me with obligation. 
Shall I admit the officer? (Tunis and goes to the door; opens it.) 



SPEECH QUALITY 121 

Enter, myrmidon ! Hats off, in the presence of a solvent debtor and 
a lady ! (Heep pays the officer and dismisses him.) 

Heep. Now, Mr. Micawber, I suppose you have no objection to 
giving me your I. O. U. for the amount. 

Micawber. Certainly not. I am always ready to put my name to 
any species of negotiable paper, from twenty shillings upward. Ex- 
cuse me, Heep, I '11 write it. (Goes through motion of writing it on 
leaf of me?no. book. Tears it out and ha?ids it to Heep) I suppose 
this is renewable on the usual term ? 

Heep. Better. You can work it out. I come to offer you the 
position of clerk in my partner's office — the firm of Wickfield and 
Heep. 

Micawber. What ! A clerk ! Emma, my love, I believe I may 
have no hesitation in saying something has at last turned up ! 

Heep. You will excuse me, Mrs. Micawber, but I should like to 
speak a few words to your husband in private. 

Mrs. Micawber. Certainly ! Wilkins, my love, go on and prosper ! 

Micawber. My dear, I shall endeavor to do so to an unlimited 

extent ! Ah, the sun has again risen — the clouds have passed — the 

sky is clear, and another score may be begun at the butcher's. — 

Heep, precede me. Emma, my love. Au Revoir. — Charles Dickens 

(Arrangement used in the Leland Powers School of the Spoken Word) 

43. The Lady of Shalott 

PART I 

On either side the river lie 
Long fields of barley and of rye, 
That clothe the wold and meet the sky ; 
And thro' the field the road runs by 

To many-tower'd Camelot : 
And up and down the people go, 
Gazing where the lilies blow- 
Round an island there below, 

The island of Shalott. 

Willows whiten, aspens quiver, 
Little breezes dusk and shiver 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Thro' the wave that runs for ever 
By the island in the river 

Flowing down to Camelot. 
Four gray walls, and four gray towers, 
Overlook a space of flowers, 
And the silent isle imbowers 

The Lady of Shalott. 

By the margin, willow-veil'd 
Slide the heavy barges trail'd 
By slow horses ; and unhail'd 
The shallop flitteth silken-sail'd 

Skimming down to Camelot : 
But who hath seen her wave her hand? 
Or at the casement seen her stand ? 
Or is she known in all the land, 

The Lady of Shalott ? 

Only reapers, reaping early 
In among the bearded barley, 
Hear a song that echoes cheerly 
From the river winding clearly, 

Down to tower'd Camelot : 
And by the moon the reaper weary, 
Piling sheaves in uplands airy, 
Listening, whispers tf 'T is the fairy 

Lady of Shalott." 

PART II 

There she weaves by night and day 
A magic web with colours gay. 
She has heard a whisper say, 
A curse is on her if she stay 

To look down to Camelot. 
She knows not what the curse may be, 
And so she weaveth steadily, 
And little other care hath she, 

The Lady of Shalott. 



SPEECH QUALITY 123 

And moving thro' a mirror clear 
That hangs before her all the year, 
Shadows of the world appear. 
There she sees the highway near 

Winding down to Camelot : 
There the river eddy whirls, 
And there the surly village-churls, 
And the red cloaks of market girls, 

Pass onward from Shalott. 

Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, 
An abbot on an ambling pad, 
Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, 
Or long-haird page in crimson clad. 

Goes by to tower' d Camelot : 
And sometimes thro' the mirror blue 
The knights come riding two and two : 
She hath no loyal knight and true, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

But in her web she still delights 
To weave the mirror's magic sights, 
For often thro' the silent nights 
A funeral, with plumes and lights 

And music, went to Camelot : 
Or when the moon was overhead, 
Came two young lovers lately wed ; 
" I am half sick of shadows," said 

The Lady of Shalott. 

PART III 

A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, 
He rode between the barley-sheaves, 
The sun came dazzling thro' the leaves, 
And flamed upon the brazen greaves 

Of bold Sir Lancelot. 
A red-cross knight for ever kneel'd 
To a lady in his shield, 



124 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

That sparkled on the yellow field, 
Beside remote Shalott. 

The gemmy bridle glitter' d free, 
Like to some branch of stars we see 
Hung in the golden Galaxy. 
The bridle bells rang merrily 

As he rode down to Camelot : 
And from his blazon'd baldric slung 
A mighty silver bugle hung, 
And as he rode his armour rung, 

Beside remote Shalott. 

All in the blue unclouded weather 
Thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather, 
The helmet and the helmet-feather 
Burn'd like one burning flame together, 

As he rode down to Camelot. 
As often thro' the purple night, 
Below the starry clusters bright, 
Some bearded meteor, trailing light, 

Moves over still Shalott. 

His broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd ; 
On burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode ; 
From underneath his helmet flow'd 
His coal-black curls as on he rode, 

As he rode down to Camelot. 
From the bank and from the river 
He flash'd into the crystal mirror, 
" Tirra lirra," by the river 

Sang Sir Lancelot. 

She left the web, she left the loom, 
She made three paces thro' the room, 
She saw the water-lily bloom, 
She saw the helmet and the plume, 
She look'd down to Camelot. 



SPEECH QUALITY 125 

Out flew the web and floated wide ; 
The mirror crack'd from side to side ; 
" The curse is come upon me.'' cried 
The Lady of Shalott. 



In the stormy east-wind straining. 
The pale yellow woods were waning, 
The broad stream in his banks complaining 
Heavily the low sky raining 

Over tower' d Camelot ; 
Down she came and found a boat 
Beneath a willow left afloat. 
And round about the prow she wrote 

The Lady of Shalott '. 

And down the river's dim expanse 
Like some bold seer in a trance, 
Seeing all his own mischance — 
With a glassy countenance 

Did she look to Camelot. 
And at the closing of the day 
She loosed the chain, and down she lay ; 
The broad stream bore her far away, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Lying, robed in snowy white 
That loosely flew to left and right — 
The leaves upon her falling light — 
Thro' the noises of the night 

She floated down to Camelot : 
And as the boat-head wound along 
The willowy hills and fields among, 
They heard her singing her last song, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Heard a carol, mournful, holy, 
Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, 



126 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Till her blood was frozen slowly, 
And her eyes were darken 'd wholly, 

Turn'd to tower'd Camelot. 
For ere she reach' d upon the tide 
The first house by the water-side, 
Singing in her song she died, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Under tower and balcony, 

By garden-wall and gallery, 

A gleaming shape she floated by, 

Dead-pale between the houses high, 

Silent into Camelot. 
Out upon the wharfs they came, 
Knight and burgher, lord and dame, 
And round the prow they read her name, 

The Lady of Shalott. 

Who is this ? and what is here ? 
And in the lighted palace near 
Died the sound of royal cheer ; 
And they cross'd themselves for fear, 

All the knights at Camelot : 
But Lancelot mused a little space ; 
He said, " She has a lovely face ; 
God in his mercy lend her grace, 

The Lady of Shalott." — Tennyson 



44. Wanted — Plain Americans 

There was a certain menagerie which had gone into quarters for 
the night in a wayside village. Some careless hand had left unfas- 
tened the door of the lion's cage. The royal Numidian lion, alike 
the pride and terror of the menagerie, finding himself so near to 
liberty, pushed open the door of his cage and sprang out ! He stood 
in the arena and gave one or two roars to prove that he was the 
king of beasts, a real and royal Numidian lion, and then he cast his 
eyes about him to see what he might devour. 






SPEECH QUALITY \2J 

There was a staid old cart-horse standing hitched to the wheel of 
the lion's cage, calmly eating hay — one of the team which was ac- 
customed to draw the chariot of the royal Numidian lion through 
the streets, to receive the admiration of the populace. This quiet 
cart-horse cast an inquiring glance over his shoulder — and went on 
eating hay. Him the lion selected for his victim ; and with a terrifying 
roar sprang upon his back. 

The battle was short, sharp and decisive. In three minutes the 
royal Numidian lion lay dead in the arena, kicked to death by an 
ignoble cart-horse, which still had the harness on its back, and which 
had calmly resumed its eating hay. 

My friends, that royal Numidian lion took liberties. The lion did 
not size up the eternal verities of the actual situation with any sort 
of accuracy. That lion learned too late that idleness and arrogance 
cannot forever excuse themselves, cannot forever endure. 

Emerson Hough 

45. The Heron 

One day, — no matter when or where, — 

A long-legged heron chanced to fare, 

With long sharp beak 

Helved on his long, lank neck. 

He came to a river's brink, — 

The water was clear and still. 

The carp and the pike there at will 

Pursued their silent fun, 

Turning up ever and anon 

A golden side to the sun ! 

With ease the heron might have made 

Great profits in the fishing trade : 

So near came the scaly fry 

They might be caught by the passer-by. 

But he thought he better might 

Wait for a smarter appetite. 

For he lived by rule, and could not eat, 

Except at his hours, the best of meat. 

Anon his appetite returned once more. 

Approaching then again the shore, 



128 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

He saw some tench taking their leaps, 
Now and then, from the lowest deeps. 
With as dainty a taste as Horace's rat, 
He turned away from such food as that. 
What ! tench for a heron ? Poh ! 
I scorn the thought and let them go. 
The tench refused, there came a gudgeon, 
" For all that," said the bird, " I trudge on. 1 ' 
I 'll ne'er ope my beak, so the gods please, 
For such mean little fishes as these. 

He did it for less ; 

For it came to pass 
That not another fish could he see ; 
And at last so hungry was he, — 
That he thought it of great avail 
To find on the bank a single snail ! 

Legouve in " Reading as a Fine Art ' : 

46. Nearer, my God, to Thee — 

Nearer to Thee ! 
E'en though it be a cross 

That raiseth me ; 
Still all my song shall be. 
Nearer, my God, to Thee — 

Nearer to Thee ! 

Though like a wanderer, 

The sun gone down, 
Darkness comes over me, 

My rest a stone ; 
Yet in my dreams I 'd be 
Nearer, my God, to Thee — 

Nearer to Thee ! 

There let the way appear 

Steps unto heaven : 
All that Thou sendest me 

In mercy given ; 



SPEECH QUALITY 129 

Angels to beckon me 
Nearer, my God, to Thee — 
Nearer to Thee ! 

Then with my waking thoughts, 

Bright with Thy praise, 
Out of my stony griefs 

Bethel I '11 raise ; 
So by my woes to be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee — 

Nearer to Thee — 

Or if, on joyful wing, 

Cleaving the sky, 
Sun, moon, and stars forgot. 

Upward I fly — 
Still all my song shall be, 
Nearer, my God, to Thee — 

Nearer to Thee ! — Adams 



47. A Christmas Carol 

STAVE TWO 

When Scrooge awoke, it was so dark, that he could scarcely 
distinguish the transparent window from the opaque walls of his 
chamber, until suddenly the church clock tolled a deep, dull, hollow, 
melancholy one. 

Light flashed up in the room upon the instant, and the curtains 
of the bed were drawn aside by a strange figure. — like a child : yet 
not so like a child as like an old man. viewed through some super- 
natural medium, which gave him the appearance of having receded 
from the view, and being diminished to a child's proportions. But 
the strangest thing about it was, that from the crown of its head 
there sprung a bright clear jet of light, by which everything was 
visible. 

ft Are you the spirit, sir. whose coming was foretold to me ? " 

"lam! " 

rt Who and what are you?*" 



130 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" I am the ghost of Christmas past." - 

ft Long past ? " 

rt No. Your past." 

" What brings you here ? " 

tr Your welfare. Rise and walk with me." 

ft I am a mortal and liable to fall." 

tf Bear but a touch of my hand there," said the spirit, laying it 
upon his heart, "and you shall be upheld in more than this." 

As the words were spoken, they passed through the wall, and stood 
in the busy thoroughfares of the city. It was made plain enough by 
the dressing of the shops that here, too, it was Christmas time. 

The ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door, and asked 
Scrooge if he knew it. 

" Know it ! Was I apprenticed here ! " 

They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welsh wig, 
sitting behind such a high desk that, if he had been two inches 
taller, he must have knocked his head against the ceiling, Scrooge 
cried in great excitement, " Why, it 's old Fezziwig ! Bless his heart, 
it 's Fezziwig, alive again ! " 

Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, 
which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands ; adjusted 
his capacious waistcoat ; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to 
his organ of benevolence ; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, 
fat, jovial voice : " Yo ho, there ! Ebenezer ! Dick! " 

A living and moving picture of Scrooge's former self, a young 
man, came briskly in, accompanied by his fellow-prentice. 

" Yo ho, my boys ! " said Fezziwig. " No more work to-night. 
Christmas eve, Dick. Christmas, Ebenezer ! Let 's have the shutters 
up, before a man can say Jack Robinson ! Clear away, my lads, and 
let 's have lots of room here ! " 

Clear away ! There was nothing they would n't have cleared 
away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. 
Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public 
life forevermore ; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were 
trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire ; and the warehouse was as 
snug and warm and dry and bright a ball-room as you would desire 
to desire to see upon a winter's night. 

In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty 



SPEECH QUALITY 131 

desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach aches. 
In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the 
three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young 
followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and 
women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her 
cousin the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular 
friend the milkman. In they all came one after another; some 
shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, 
some pulling ; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they 
all went, twenty couple at once ; hands half round and back again 
the other way ; down the middle and up again ; round and round in 
various stages of affectionate grouping ; old top couple always turn- 
ing up in the wrong place ; new top couple starting off again as soon 
as they got there ; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to 
help them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, 
clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, " Well done ! " and 
the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter especially 
provided for that purpose. 

There were more dances and there were forfeits, and more 
dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a 
great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold 
Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty of beer. But the great 
effect of the evening came after the Roast and Boiled, when the 
fiddler struck up " Sir Roger de Coverley." Then old Fezziwig stood 
out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too ; with a good 
stiff piece of work cut out for them ; three or four and twenty pair 
of partners ; people who were not to be trifled with ; people who 
would dance, and had no notion of walking. 

But if they had been twice as many, — four times, — old Fezziwig 
would have been a match for them and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As 
to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. 
A positive light seemed to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone 
in every part of the dance. You could n't have predicted, at any 
time, what would become of them next. And when old Fezziwig 
and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone through the dance, — advance and re- 
tire, turn your partner, bow and courtesy, corkscrew, thread the 
needle and back again to your place, — Fezziwig's "cut," — cut so 
deftly, that he appeared to wink with his hind legs. 



132 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

When the clock struck eleven this domestic ball broke up. Mr. 
and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations on either side of the door, 
and, shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went 
out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. When everybody had 
retired but the two 'prentices, they did the same to them ; and thus 
the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds, 
which were under a counter in the back shop. 

" A small matter," said the ghost, tc to make these silly folks so 
full of gratitude. He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal 
money : three or four, perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves 
this praise? " 

ft It is n't that," said Scrooge, "it is n't that, Spirit. He has the 
power to render us happy or unhappy ; to make our service light or 
burdensome ; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words 
and looks ; in things so light and insignificant that it is impossible 
to add and count them up : what then ? The happiness is as great 
as though it cost a fortune." 

He felt the Spirit's glance, and stopped. 

" What is the matter? " 

rt Nothing in particular." 

" Something, I think." 

ft No, no. I should like to be able to say a word or two to my 
clerk just now. That 's all." 

" My time grows short, quick ! " 

This was not addressed to Scrooge, or to anyone whom he could 
see, for he immediately found himself in his own bed-room. He had 
barely time to reel to bed before he sank into a heavy sleep. 

Hedfrom Dickens 



The Departed Friend 

Though he that ever kind and true 
Kept stoutly step by step with you 
Your whole long, gusty lifetime through, 

Be gone a while before — 
Be now a moment gone before, 
Yet doubt not ; anon the seasons shall restore 

Your friend to you. 



SPEECH QUALITY I 33 

He has but turned a corner — still 
He pushes on with right good will 
Through mire and marsh, by heugh and hill, 

That self-same arduous way — 
That self-same upland hopeful way 
That you and he through many a doubtful day 

Attempted still. 

He is not dead, this friend — not dead, 
But in the path we mortals tread 
Got some few trifling steps ahead 

And nearer to the end. 
-So that you, too, once past this bend, 
Shall meet again, as face to face, this friend 

You fancy dead. 

Push gayly on, strong heart ! The while 
You travel forward mile by mile. 
He loiters with a backward smile, 

Till you can overtake, 
And strains his eyes to search his wake, 
Or, whistling, as he sees you through the brake, 

Waits on a stile. — Stevenson 



49. A Sunset Parable 

Behold the drooping clouds, yon pallid strips 
Above the hills, at evening hush, 
Are flooded with a sudden roseate gush 
Of splendor from the sinking sun, that dips 
Even now below our mortal ken and slips 
To his mysterious rest — a wondrous rush 
Of some bright ecstasy, some refluent flush 
Of triumph, some divine apocalypse. 

So as the shadows of our sorrow bend 

Above the setting of that life whose course 

Illumined darkness to its utmost goal, 

Through our gray grief may such fine flame ascend, 



134 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Such glowing benediction from the force 
Of that celestial fire, her martyr-soul. 

Katharine Lee Bates 

50. Luria {speaking). My own East ! 

How nearer God we were ! He glows above 
With scarce an intervention, presses close 
And palpitatingly, his soul o'er ours : 
We feel him, nor by painful reason know ! 
The everlasting minute of creation 
Is felt there ; now it is, as it was then ; 
All changes at his instantaneous will, 
Not by the operation of a law 
Whose maker is elsewhere at other work. 
His hand is still engaged upon his world — 
Man's praise can forward it, man's prayer suspend, 
For is not God all-mighty ? To recast 
The world, erase old things and make them new. 
What costs it Him ? So, man breathes nobly there. 
And inasmuch as feeling, the East's gift, 
Is quick and transient — comes, and lo, is gone — 
While Northern thought is slow and durable, 
Surely a mission was reserved for me, 
Who, born with a perception of the power 
And use of the North's thought for us of the East, 
Should have remained, turned knowledge to account, 
Giving thought's character and permanence 
To the too transitory feeling there — 
Writing God's message plain in mortal words. 
Instead of which, I leave my fated field 
For this where such a task is needed least, 
Where all are born consummate in the art 
I just perceive a chance of making mine, — 
And then, deserting thus my early post, 
I wonder that the men I come among 
Mistake me ! There, how all had understood, 
Still brought fresh stuff for me to stamp and keep, 
Fresh instinct to translate them into law ! — Browning 



SPEECH QUALITY I 35 

51. A Wanderer's Litany 

When my life has enough of love, and my spirit enough of mirth, 
When the ocean no longer beckons me, when the roadway calls no 
more, 
Oh, on the anvil of Thy wrath, remake me, God, that day ! 

When the lash of the wave bewilders, and I shrink from the sting 

of the rain, 
W T hen I hate the gloom of Thy steel-gray wastes, and slink to the 

lamp-lit shore, 
Oh, purge me in Thy primal fires, and fling me on my way ! 

When I house me close in a twilit inn, when I brood by a dying fire, 
When I kennel and cringe with fat content, where a pillow and loaf 
are sure, 
Oh, on the anvil of Thy wrath, remake me, God, that day ! 

When I quail at the snow on the uplands, when I crawl from the 

glare of the sun, 
When the trails that are lone, invite me not, and the half-way lamps 

allure, 
Oh, purge me in Thy primal fires, and fling me on my way ! 

When the wine has all ebbed from an April, when the autumn of 

life forgets 
The call and the lure of the widening West, the wind in the straining 

rope, 
Oh, on the anvil of Thy wrath, remake me, God, that day ! 

When I waken to hear adventurers strange throng valiantly forth 

by night, 
To the sting of the salt-spume, dust of the plain, and width of the 

western slope, 
Oh, purge me in Thy primal fires, and fling me on my way ! 

When swarthy and careless and grim they throng out under my 

rose-grown sash, 
And I — I bide me there by the coals, and I know not heat nor hope, 
Then, on the anvil of Thy wrath, remake me, God, that day ! 
Arthur Stringer in Smart Set 



136 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

52. Gypsy Song 

Under me the grass, 
Over me the sky, 
I can sleep and dream until 
The night goes by ; 
Till the shadows pass, 
Till the stars depart, 
Let a roving gypsy fill 
His hungry heart. 

Voices in the vines, 
Visions in the vales, 
It is mine to know them all 
Along green trails ; 
When the morning shines 
Like a rose above, 
'Let me hear the gypsy call 
Of birds I love ! 

Murmur of the stream, 
Whisper of the tree, 
I can understand the song 
They sing to me ; 
Mine the blissful dream, 
Builded of delight, 
Let the gypsy day be long, 
And brief his night ! 

F. D. Sherman in Munsi 

53. Dear Friend : 

The world is wide 
In time and tide 
And — God is guide, 
Then do not hurry ! 

That man is blest 
Who does his best 
And — leaves the rest, 
Then do not worry ! 



SPEECH QUALITY I 37 

54. • The Quality of Mercy 

■ The best he could hope, for was dismissal. To be allowed to go 
out of the office alone, disgraced, branded, — this would be a mercy 
and forbearance. What limited another's fears was his hope ; but 
then he had the dock in prospect, the curt and irritable magistrate, 
the penalty of embezzlement, the unending shame of the jail. Or 
perhaps the First Offenders' Act would return him to the hardened 
faces of the world, a marked man, an offence against his class, a 
traitor to his family and friends. 

Waiting in the anteroom until the senior partner should be ready 
for him, George Hanbury clenched his fists till the palms bled under 
his nails. He was ready to face his doom and take what he had 
earned, if he could have but taken it alone. Since the discovery of 
his defalcations had become inevitable, and during the awful two days 
that had elapsed since the discovery itself had taken place, he had 
realized, blindingly, the responsibility for the happiness of others 
which depends upon every man. His father, his mother, his brothers 
and sisters ! This struck at them all ; this was aimed at their home, 
at the completeness of their lives and the root of their self-respect 
and happiness. His head swam as the picture of their misery, when 
the news should reach them, took shape in his mind. 

Alone he could have borne it. He had himself in a tight hold. 
Two days before the manager had sent for him, and he found him 
with certain books open on his desk. 

"Can you explain this? " the manager had asked, pointing to a page. 

Hanbury looked and knew at once that the blow had fallen. 

ft No, sir," he answered, quietly. 

" Nothing to say ? " queried the manager, closing the volume. 

" Nothing at all," was the quiet answer. 

"Very well,'' said the other. "Mr. Burns will have to hear of 
this. Go back to your work." 

Then elapsed two days of terrible punishment. His fellows among 
the clerks knew nothing, and it cost a strong effort to keep a calm 
face in their midst and so escape remark. He was awaiting sen- 
tence from Mr. Burns, who came down to the office only occasionally, 
and whose remoteness from the daily life of the business seemed to 
Hanbury to add another terror to his position. 



138 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

The door of the inner office clicked, and the manager came out. 
Hanbury rose to his feet, biting his lip. The manager looked at him 
gravely. 

" Go in," he said. 

Hanbury entered. Old William Burns was sitting at a table. He 
was an old man, white-haired, with a chin and cheek hidden in a fluff 
of white beard. Keen gray eyes looked out from under heavy brows : 
his face bespoke strength and resolution, but there was nothing of 
harshness in it. It was grave now, and perhaps sad ; but not hard 
nor vindictive. 

They looked at one another in silence for a moment, the strong 
old man who had succeeded, and the young man who had failed. 

" I have been hearing details of an embezzlement which you have 
committed," said the old man, slowly. There was a country burr in 
his voice ; Hanbury noted it with an odd sense of having expected 
it. " I understand you make no defence." 

Hanbury found his voice with an effort. " None, sir," he answered. 

" And you know what you have incurred by this crime ? " 

Hanbury nodded, gulping. 

c! Very well," said the senior partner, rising and speaking very 
gently, " if you know that we will not say anything more about it. 
I shall not send you to prison." 

He waited for Hanbury to speak, but the young man could say 
nothing. 

" If I permit you to return to your work, and to gradually refund 
the money you have misappropriated, shall I be safe ? " 

The clerk started and looked up. Old William Burns was watching 
him wistfully. " Sir," — stammered the young man, — ft I promise — 
I swear — " His voice failed him, and he struggled with rising emotion. 

" Very well, we will consider that arranged. No word of it will 
be said again by any one." 

He held out his hand and Hanbury grasped it feverishly. 

" You are the second man who fell and was pardoned in this 
business, Mr. Hanbury," said the old man in a low tone. tc I was 
the first. What you have done, I did. The mercy you have received, 
I received. God help us all." 

They shook hands upon it, the two men who had been spared. 

The British Weekly 



SPEECH QUALITY I 39 

55. The Misfortunes of Little Ike Templin 

In the midst of his supper one day it occurred to little Ike to 
resort to the well for a drink of water. In time his mammy grew tired 
of stopping her work whenever he grew thirsty to hand him down 
a gourd from the pail which rested on the shelf beyond his reach. 
Finally she said to him : ft Boy, what ails you anyhow ? G' long 
out doors an' try to be some use to somebody, 'stid of eatin' up an' 
drinkin' up ev'yting Mis's got on her plantash'n." 

Little Ike, thus driven out, stood for a moment by the door and 
looked at the well, which was a few rods distant. But he turned his 
back upon it instantly, as if it were too painful to be thus reminded 
of the source of his most recent disappointment, and began walking 
in the opposite direction. When he had reached a spot on the line 
with the end of the kitchen, he filed to the left and again to the left 
when he had reached the rear side ; and pursuing this line until he 
had gone some distance beyond the well, turned again and came 
to the latter. Stepping upon a hewn log which lay there to enable 
younger drawers of water to manage the bucket, he was pleased 
to find this utensil as it was resting upon the ledge, half full of water. 
Conscious that his time was short, he clambered up to the ledge, got 
upon all fours, grabbed with one hand the rim of the bucket, and 
with the other the well-rope, and, first taking an anxious glance 
toward the kitchen and a fond one toward the contents of the bucket, 
plunged in his head. He had hardly taken a few sips when the call 
of his mother at its accustomed pitch sounded from the kitchen. 

And here I find myself under the painful necessity of recording a 
most terrible scene. I suppose it will never be known precisely how 
it happened, although no one, as well as I remember, ever suspected 
little Ike of a deliberate intention to commit the awful crime of suicide. 
It may have been that he had not known the use of his legs long 
enough for the present extreme need, and that his knees may have 
given a tilt to the bucket, — or. in his haste, he may have pressed 
too hard upon the rope, and that the rope yielding, obedient to the 
pull, destroyed both his balance and that of the bucket. At all events 
down they went together to the bottom, a distance of thirty feet. 

The mother, who had seen him at the moment when the descent 
began, ran shrieking to the well, where she was joined by Mrs. Temp- 
lin a moment after. 



140 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" Oh, Mis's, Mis's, my po' ophing chile have fell in de well and 
broke his naik, an' drowned hese'f on top o' that, an' he my precious 
baby, — an' de las' one I got ! " 

Mrs. Templin said: ct I 'm sorry for you, Judy. But maybe he 
has been mercifully saved from drowning. Lean over and look down 
as I turn the windlass." 

After a few turns, she knew by the feeling that the bucket had 
risen to the surface of the water, which was some four feet deep. 

" Now call him," she said. 

" Li'll Iky ! Li'll Iky ! " shouted Judy. 

" Ma-a-a-a-me ! " came a sharp plaintive answer from the great 
deep. 

" Is you down dar, precious? " 

tf Eth, e-e-eth, 'm." 

" Well, well, is you drownded? " 

tr No-no-no, 'm ! " 

" Well, well ! Is you done gone all to pieces ? " 

" No-n-n-no, 'm ! " 

tf Is anyting de matter wid mammy's precious boy baby ? " 

ft I-k-k-k-co-o-o-ld ! " 

" Well, well, where is you now ? " 

" In — in de-b-b-bucket ! " 

Mrs. Templin then directed the mother to urge the child to hold 
fast to the rope while she herself would turn the windlass. 

" Dar now, you heah dat? Mis's say she wan' my nice li'll darky 
to ketch tight hold ter de rope, — tight as a tick ; an' she say she 
gwine draw him up with her own blessed hands. Mis's say she can't 
'ford to lose likely li'll fellow like my li'll Ike, dat she can't. Ye 
heah, mammy's precious suga' lump ? " 

" E-e-e-e-th, 'm ! " 

The winding began, and the mother being urged to encourage 
Ike as much as possible during the ascent, did as well as she could 
by such cheering remarks as these : 

" Jes' look at dat ! Mis's givin' her li'll niggah such a nice ride ! 
En Mis's done tole mammy tah kill six chick'ns, an' fry one o'm an' 
brile one o'm and make pie out of de res', an' all for li'll Iky's din- 
ner ; an' she say she gwine make daddy barb'cue two pigs dis very 
evenin', and nobody ain't to tech a mou'f'l on'm 'cep'n li'll Iky if 



SPEECH QUALITY 141 

he '11 holt on tah de well-rope. An' she say, Mis's do, she jes' know 
her great big li'll Ike ain' gwine to let dat rope loose an' not get all 
dem goodies ! " 

It is possible that in so brief a time never was promised a greater 
number of luxuries to a child born to loftiest estate. Chickens, 
ducks — indeed the whole poultry yard was more than exhausted ; 
every pig on the plantation was done to a turn. During the ascent 
little Ike was informed with the solemnest assurance that eatables of 
every description would be at his disposal forever. The time does 
not suffice to tell of other rewards promised in the name of the 
munificent mistress, in the way of cakes, pies, syllabubs, gold and 
silver and costly apparel. All this while, Mrs. Templin, without 
uttering a word, turned the windlass, slowly, steadily. 

When the bucket with its contents reached the top, and was 
safely lodged upon the ledge, the mother seized her precious dar- 
ling, his teeth chattering the while with the chill, and dragging him 
fiercely forth, said in wrathful tones : 

"A cold, is yah? Well, ef I be bressed wid strength an' ef dey 
is peachy trees 'nough in de orchard, an' de fence corners, I '11 wa'm 
yah. You dat has skeert me intah fits, an' made me tell all dem 
lies, — dem on Mis's — dat I jes' knows, — I jes' knows, I never ken 
git fahgiv' fo' 'em." And still holding him, she began striding 
toward the kitchen door. 

(t Judy ! " called her mistress, sternly, " Judy, put down that 
child this minute! Aren't you ashamed of yourself? Instead of 
being thankful that he was n't killed, here you stand and are so 
angry with him that you look as if you wished to kill him yourself. 
Now take him to your house and put some dry clothes on him ; 
then send him to me in the house, where I will have some coffee 
ready for him. And mind you, Judy, if you lay your hands on that 
child in anger, that won't be the last of it. Do for goodness' sake, 
try to learn some reason about your children." 

Judy led him away sullenly, and, in spite of her mistress's warn- 
ings, muttered direful threatenings. louder and louder, as she pro- 
ceeded, ending thus, as, having clothed him, she despatched him to 
the big house : 

" Nevah yah min', sah ; wait till Sunday come, when Mis's go 
tah meetin', an' you '11 see ! An' boy, ef yah skeers me dat way agin, 



142 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

I '11 put yah whar yah won' wan' no mo' watah, an' no mo' nothin' — 
idee ! people all talkin' 'bout my chile gittin' drownded same as 
puppies an' kittens ! Ought to be 'shamed o' yours'f ! I is. I jes' 
'spises to look at yah ! G' long out my sight ! " 

Ten minutes afterwards, while little Ike was in the big house, 
luxuriating in coffee, biscuit and fried chicken, she was singing in 
cheerful voice one of her favorite hymns : 

Nobody knows the trouble I see, Lord ; 

Nobody knows the trouble I see ; 
Nobody knows the trouble I see, Lord ; 
Nobody knows like Jesus. 



56. To Whom Homage is Due 

Away back in the beginning of mankind's life, God gave women 
sovereignty over the hearts of men, and the supremacy of queen- 
ship He bestowed upon that one who bears the sweetest name our 
language knows, — the name of mother. No coronation announced 
the queen's entrance into her appointed glory, neither gilded throne 
nor jewel-flashing crown awaited her, and in her frail hands was 
placed no gleaming scepter. She needed no such symbol of her 
power — power of which promise was given when first the Hand 
Divine planted in her breast the seeds of deathless love. 

Remote ages ago the queen began her reign. Time has yielded 
rich increase to her kingdom, and still with the same abiding love as 
of old, she holds her gentle sway over domains too vast for man to 
measure. Within her borderlands countless loyal subjects dwell. 
Children adore her ; men and women honor her. What matters it 
to them if her raiment have not always silken sheen or purple 
splendor ? What matter if her eyes have not retained their maiden 
luster ? What matter if her form lack outward beauty ? They under- 
stand : coarse covering cannot debase the soul " all glorious within " ; 
eyes tear-drenched with others' sorrows cannot dim the love light 
shining through ; shoulders, stooped under burdens grown heavier 
each passing year, are not less beautiful for having lost the shape- 
liness of youth. 

Many a master of the brush has striven to make his " Madonna " 
declare something of the divinity of motherhood. As our gaze 



'SPEECH QUALITY 143 

lingers upon the product of his genius the revelation bursts full on 
us, and into our breasts steal such awe and adoration as must have 
thrilled the heart of the painter when he bent his fingers to the task 
of portraying the mystery beautiful. But all Madonnas are not to be 
found in art collections, and if we would know the sweetness of their 
presence we need not search the walls of picture galleries. Rather, 
let us go out along humanity's highways and byways, and if we have 
eyes that see, it will not be long ere we discover one of the faces we 
seek. True, the artistic setting may be wanting ; no halo will illume 
the head ; a flesh and blood Madonna, she, with warm life-currents 
coursing through veins whose pulsations beat perfect time with the 
heart-throbs of the human race, and with a countenance — mayhap, 
a homely, care-creased one — bearing such benedictive radiance as 
is set forth only in that which bears the stamps of the Great Artist's 
handiwork. 

Perchance the first we meet has boundless wealth at her com- 
mand, but having been called upon to restore some most precious 
jewels entrusted a brief time to her keeping, now, for the dear love 
of what she once possessed, spends her gold and her life in the 
service of earth's unfortunates. Perchance, she may be a mere 
" Madonna of the Tubs," struggling each day to earn the coppers 
that will keep starvation from her little brood, yet never too tired to 
croon a lullaby to quiet baby fears, or bend her weather-beaten face 
to kiss away the stain of tears from feverish baby cheeks. High or 
low her station, she is the never-failing source of sympathy. Some, 
hungering for a kind word of appreciation, turn to her and are 
satisfied ; others, seeing stones of discouragement ahead, point them 
out to her, and she it is who stoops and rolls away the stones. 
Having herself groped along a path sometime obscured by sorrow's 
gloom ; having herself stood at the brink of Marah's pool and 
tasted of its dark waters, she can encourage others passing that way 
and help to make their bitter sweet. 

In the days of the truth-telling sages, one of the mightiest of these 
besought men not to look upon the things that are seen, but upon 
the things that are not seen. " For," wrote he, "the things that are 
seen are temporal; but the things that are not seen are eternal." 

Once a man appeared before a great concourse of people. With 
language of amazing eloquence he played upon their emotions, until 



144 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

they all, carried along in the whirlwind of his passion, made mani- 
fest their praise of him with a tumult that caused the very ground 
beneath their feet to tremble. Years passed, and one night death 
silenced the tongue that had been wont to drop such silver-sounding 
words, and long before the still lips had turned to dust, the orator's 
name and sayings were alike forgotten. 

Now another man, robbed of all the best-loved things earth held 
for him, sat within the close limits of a cold and dark and barren 
prison-cell, and wrote lines heavy with the pathos of his own heart 
burnings. Somehow the paper found its way between the prison's 
window bars, and as it fluttered down a beggar chanced that way. 
He read the words. The fire in them touched a spark within his 
breast, and it sprang into flame. He sang the verses to the crowds 
that filled the streets, and other lips took up the strain. None won- 
dered whence the words, or gave a thought to the singer. Each only 
knew that the song expressed longings — smothered within his own 
bosom. It seemed to the peasant as he hummed the lines, that the 
burden of his toil grew lighter ; happy women sang them as their 
hands performed the household duties ; little children lisped them 
in imitation. And so it came to pass that the words dwelt on the 
tongues of generation after generation. 

Behold the works of these two men : the one, spending the 
strength of a promising manhood in the effort to win the applause 
of the people ; the other, removed from the sight of his fellows, giv- 
ing voice to the mute prayer of the oppressed of all ages : the utter- 
ances of the one perishing with his poor body ; the utterances of the 
other living through centuries. Verily, the seen and the unseen j the 
te?nporal and the ete?'nal. 

Hundreds of years ago, within a low hut on the banks of the 
smooth-flowing Euphrates stood a crude loom fitted with warp strings 
close set and fine, betokening the richness of the forthcoming web. 
Day after day a weaver, one of Persia's humblest toilers, bent over i 
his slow task of fashioning a wonderful tapet. Back and forth the 
wooden needle passed, stitching in threads of silk and wool whose 
colors rivaled in purity the hues of the water prisms dancing outside 
in the oriental sunshine. The delight of seeing the threads grow into 
his pattern was not the tapestry maker's ; only the seamy, knotted 
side his eyes beheld ; but the knowledge that the result of his labor 



SPEECH QUALITY 145 

would please the hearts of those who should view it in years to come 
was joy enough for him. Centuries ago it was that the weaver's fingers 
practiced their art ; to-day the tapestry hangs in the half-subdued 
light of a grand old cathedral, its surface still illumined by colors mar- 
velously blended, beautiful as when the lonely workman lifted it from 
the loom. " For," as was written, n the things that are not seen are 
eternal." 

So is the mother-task like that of the tapestry maker's. But a 
fabric of life she weaves, and the warp strings, exceeding fine and 
many in number, vibrate to every touch of the weaver. Hers the 
choice of threads that make up the weft ; hers the choice of design 
for the textile. Her spindles are wound with strands of every con- 
ceivable color. Each day she patiently puts in the lengths, ever 
blending the tones with infinite skill, wisely mingling the deep- 
shaded passions with tints that reflect heaven's own sunlight. 
Within the quiet precincts of the home she plies her work, seeing 
for the most part, as did the weaver of old, the side all seamy and 
knotted. Still, she sings at her task, and constantly dreams of the 
glorious finish. Some day men will look upon that which her hands 
have wrought, and the sight will bring lasting joy to many a beholder. 
— This, the unseen, this, the eternal. 

In the beginning, God committed to the mother the guardian- 
ship of the physical, the mental, and the spiritual well-being of the 
race, and that even mother-strength might not quail before the task, 
He gave to her the power of a love so deep it passeth all but His own 
understanding, — 

A mother's love ! 

If there be one thing pure 

Where all beside is sullied ; 
That can endure 

When all else pass away ; 
If there be aught 

Surpassing human deed, or word, or thought, 
It is a mother's love. 

Look you ! — A beautiful chamber within one of England's splen- 
did palaces. Naught but the sound of slow, labored breathing breaks 
the ill-boding hush of the room, and upon a rich-canopied bed tosses 
the form of a child, held in the unyielding grip of a deadly plague. 



146 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Its tiny, fever-scorched hands deliriously clutch the empty air and in 
thick, choked voice the little one pleads for a kiss from its mother. 
— Swift and certain death for one who dares to press her lips against 
these burning ones ! — But now the lovely Princess Alice enters, her 
face white with resolution, and brushing aside the hands that would 
restrain her, she gathers the fragile form close within her arms, and 
impresses kiss after kiss upon her dying baby's cheeks. That day a 
little soul went out of the world, and before England's sun had three 
times set, the soul of the ?'oyal princess went in quest of the other. 

Once more look you ! This time the scene a cotton field in 
Tennessee. Side by side a slave mother and her child are toiling. 
Near by stands the overseer, an evil-visaged " driver of men." Sud- 
denly his brute nature becomes incensed at some small error of the 
youthful hands, and with all the strength of ungoverned fury in his 
arms, his whipstock he uplifts, prepared to gore the slave boy's back. 
Between her child and the swift-descending lash the black mother 
springs, — a smothered shriek ; a rill of warm blood staining the soil ; 
another white soul set free to join again its maker. — "Greater love 
hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for another.' 1 '' 

It seems I see before me far-stretching billows of full-ripened 
grain, and everywhere broad, smiling fields give promise of a happy 
harvest-tide. Even as I look, the reapers come, each swing of their 
glinting scythe-blades leaving behind long swaths of new-cut grain : 
and — yes, I hear the up-swelling strains of the joyous song of the 
harvest home. And now the high-noon time is come, and, in a great 
sun-burst of glory, a host of reapers and gleaners, bearing the fruit- 
age of their season's labor, turn their faces toward the scene of the 
garnering in. Lo ! At the head of them all, bringing with her a 
generous sheaf of golden, full-bearded grain, appears the mother of 
men, — to place it as an offering before Thy seat, good Master of 
the harvest, at whose right hand sitteth Mary, Mother of God. 



57. The Wisdom of the Good 

The world is so much of a hospital that even those who are well 
are affected by the atmosphere in which they live. Among so many 
semi-blind people they often doubt their own sight, and question their 
own sanity among so many who are not wholly sane. They cannot 



SPEECH QUALITY 1 47 

escape the infection of an air breathed by generations of sick folk, 
and their courage is lowered by the fears which overshadow their 
neighbors. Even when they have become ministering spirits they 
are so exhausted by the drain on their spiritual vitality that they lose 
the overflowing joy of health and its boundless confidence in the 
goodness at the heart of the world. From time to time men and 
women of spiritual genius appear who are not imposed upon by the 
mere processes of thought, the sounding verbiage of knowledge, 
the false witness of the blind, or the half-blind, the illusion of the 
finality of the age ; who look through the mist and see the sublime 
order moving to its appointed ends with the majesty of great stars 
set in their places by omnipotence. When these prophets, poets, 
teachers, appear, faith comes stealing back to the channels that had 
become hard and dry, and the barren land begins to sing once more. 
To such as these, who have the pure heart, the obedient will, the 
mind of the child, the highest things are not only credible : they are 
inevitable and unescapable. And these men and women are the 
spiritual experts ; the only observers who speak with the authority of 
eye-witnesses. Against their witness the testimony of the sick, the 
deaf, the blind, has no weight ; it is moving, pathetic, freighted with 
the pathos of suffering ; but its value is personal, is universal. 

Copyrighted by The Outlook 

II. Speech Quality 

Nature of speech quality. Read these selections aloud 
and note the vocal characteristics of each : 

1 . Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare ! 
Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers ! 

2. Wal naow, Horace, don't ye cry so ! 

3. Away with weary cares and themes! 

4. Roll on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean, roll ! 

Here, as shown before, there is a modulation in pitch 
which is called speech melody. But there is another im- 
pression which comes to the ear which is not melodic. 



148 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Recite the lines to one pitch, do away with the melody 
entirely, and still this impression loses none of its power. 
The sounds appeal to the ear not alone through their 
variation in pitch but through their inherent character 
or quality. The striking difference between the selections 
numbered 3 and 4 grows out of the variety of the vowel 
sounds used : in 3 most of the vowels are made with the 
front of the tongue ; in 4 they are made, for the most 
part, with the back of the tongue. Note in the following 
extracts that the consonants are used to produce a qualita- 
tive effect in the so-called alliteration : 

ioill fathom, five thy father lies. 
Nor jrrape trencher, nor wash dish. 

Again, in the extract from Tennyson numbered 1 
there is an attempt to make words by their very sound 
describe objects or actions : "warble," "blare," "flutter." 
Further, there is a difference in the quality of the utterance 
growing out of the vocal conditions of the speaker ; in the 
former the conditions are normal, in the latter, abnormal. 
Finally there might be a variety in the quality of the utter- 
ance of any one of the selections when given by the same 
reader if uttered under the influence of varying mental and 
physical states. The sympathetic response in the texture 
of the voice to the varying thought and feeling is called 
speech quality. 

The mechanics of speech quality. As shown elsewhere, 
quality is dependent, for the most part, upon the number 
and character of the overtones which combine with the 
fundamental tone of the voice. Quality, then, depends 
upon the fundamental tone and upon the resonators which 
reenforce it and so produce the overtones. The resonant 



SPEECH QUALITY 1 49 

character of stringed instruments is very different from 
that of wind instruments ; hence their quality will vary. In 
two stringed instruments the quality will vary, as is the case 
with the violin and piano, since the resonators and the 
method of producing the tone vary. Two instruments of 
the same kind will reveal unlike qualities because of some 
difference in workmanship, material, or performer. Apply- 
ing these facts to the human voice, the following truths in 
regard to its quality may safely be postulated : The human 
voice will depend for its quality upon the character of the 
immediate vocal instrument, the " voice-box," and upon 
the resonators, throat, nose, or nasal passages, and muscular 
tissue, which sympathetically respond to strengthen the fun- 
damental tone or to produce the overtones. Quality will 
distinguish voices, since any two voices have somewhat dif- 
ferent instruments for the production of tone, and hence 
dissimilar resonators. Quality will have even an individual 
character, since certain of the resonators are fixed. Quality 
will constantly vary in the normal person, for certain of 
the resonators, notably the muscles, and especially the shape 
of the most important resonator, the mouth cavity, with 
its movable jaw and tongue, are variable and are con- 
stantly responding in changing shape to the thought and 
feeling. Varying quality will mark the same voice under 
varying conditions : sickness, health, intellectual and emo- 
tional states, abnormal physical and psychical conditions, 
natural, artificial, or accidental, since all these things 
affect the resonators. When the quality of the voice is 
good, the voice is spoken of as rich, mellow, pure, reso- 
nant ; when the quality is bad, such descriptive terms as 
nasal, harsh, throaty, guttural, falsetto, and breathy are 
employed. 



150 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Kinds of speech quality. Three terms, not very accurate 
but quite suggestive, may be used to designate fundamen- 
tal qualities. These terms are "physical," "intellectual," 
and " spiritual." The first is the quality of voice found in 
conjunction with great vitality of body and good health, 
— the sort of voice every public speaker should covet. It 
bespeaks immense resources of strength and helps to create 
confidence in a speaker's capacity. The intellectual (men- 
tal) type of voice characterizes the ordinary utterances of 
most people where the simple purpose is to present facts. 
As a class, teachers are apt to have this quality. The 
name indicates the nature of the spiritual quality. It is 
more characteristic of women than of men, and rarely ap- 
pears as a permanent quality. 

The psychology of speech quality. As the melodic 
form, in its normal operation, reveals, for the most part, 
the logical or illogical action of the mind, so the quality 
of the voice serves as an index to the emotions, showing 
their presence or absence, and when present something of 
their nature. Every sound of the human voice has more 
or less definite quality which responds sympathetically to 
the varying physical and psychic states of the speaker. 
The quality of the "crying voice " is very different from 
that of the "laughing voice." The presence of deep 
emotions is instantly revealed by the speech quality, and 
in the highly trained voice it may be used as the greatest 
legitimate factor of emotional expression. The condition 
of the mind directly affects the muscles and hence the 
resonators which control to a large extent the quality of 
the voice. " Even the muscles apparently at rest in the 
body are contracted to some extent. This condition of 
faint contraction has been named 'tonus.' The effect of 



SPEECH QUALITY 151 

the degree of tonus on song and speech has not been 
determined experimentally. It may be suggested that 
flabby muscles in the resonance cavities would diminish the 
duration of the free vibrations on account of the loss of 
energy at the soft walls. The effect upon the ear would 
be a change of quality of the vocal sound in a way still 
undefined and yet readily recognizable in the voices of the 
weak or sick in comparison with a stimulating healthy 
voice. Such changes appear as the result of fatigue, ill- 
health, and other devitalizing conditions ; in smaller degree 
they arise from any disturbance (mental or bodily, such 
as grief, disappointment, colds, the missing of a meal, etc.) 
that diminishes the vitality of the nerve centers." 1 

Monotone. Under normal conditions, in public speaking 
of a purposeful sort, the greatest fault in speech quality is 
monotone. This is the utterance of varied thought and 
feeling in one quality of voice. It corresponds to mono- 
pitch in speech melody. Public speaking, from its very 
nature, is, for the most part, strongly emotional, and much 
of its beauty and most of its power lie in the constant 
change through contrasts in thought and emotion ; it is 
rich in the strength and variety of emotional appeal. Then 
it follows that monotone under most conditions is a fault. 
But, as was the case in monopitch, there may be a desire 
to create a response to but one emotion, which shall domi- 
nate, as in liturgical reading or in any other effort to pro- 
duce the feeling of a supernatural presence ; here it may 
be legitimate. 

Cause of monotone. The main cause of monotone is 
clearly the failure of the mind of the reader or speaker 
to experience specific emotions. Why is this failure so 

1 Scripture. 






152 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

common ? There may be a complete lack of imaginative 
power, making the case almost a hopeless one ; but fre- 
quently the failure is due to bad habits of thinking, which 
careful training may do much to remove. The failure may 
be due to a not uncommon state of being which grows out 
of the very nature of the work. This may be called "self- 
consciousness"; it has a number of forms. Here is a quite 
common one : Young men think it is " bad form" to show 
emotion in public except in connection with an athletic 
event ; theirs is a hard case, but if they can be made to 
see that emotional expression is basic in successful public 
speaking, their ideals may change, to the betterment of their 
speech quality. Again, self-consciousness may operate to 
produce a timidity which will seriously check the natural 
flow of emotion through the voice. Sometimes the condi- 
tion is an abnormal one and demands the skill of the family 
physician. There is still another form of self -consciousness 
as trying to the conscientious teacher as either one of the 
others already mentioned. It is the form which leads the 
student to make of his work an exhibition of his powers 
and gifts of person rather than a medium for the revelation 
of thought and feeling. He may need a sharp suggestion 
that all forms of self-consciousness may be at root forms 
of self-conceit and false pride. 

Remedy. The only remedy which is worthy of much 
consideration is one which is directed at the cause of the 
fault. If there is monotone where there are a number of 
different emotions to be expressed, then the problem is to 
break up the mental state indicated by the monotone and" 
secure for the reader or speaker an actual experience of 
the varied emotions. Training the voice so that it can ex- 
press a variety in quality is practically impossible, for no 



SPEECH QUALITY I 53 

lasting results can be obtained until the emotions are actu- 
ally felt. The vital need in most cases is a training of 
the imagination. That the imagination can be trained, 
aroused, vivified, until the mind of the learner takes on 
new powers of discernment and becomes rich in the ex- 
perience of emotion where before it was dormant and 
approaching the " last long sleep " has been a repeated 
classroom experience of many a conscientious teacher. 
The result has been attained largely through the study of 
imaginative literature for the cultivation of taste. 

The teaching of speech quality. As in the case of 
speech melody the teaching consists largely in a training 
of the mind for logical thinking, so in the teaching of 
speech quality the attention is directed primarily toward 
making the student feel, experience accurately and ade- 
quately, each specific emotion. The training of the voice 
so that it shall be an absolutely free agent is necessary. As 
speech melody demands a good range of voice, so speech 
quality requires a command of resonance. Resonance is the 
sympathetic response in vibration of one body to another 
whereby the sound produced by the latter is reenforced. 
The whole body is the vocal instrument, and must be 
harmonic in its responsive vibrations. There must be no 
restrictions. Restrictions of tongue, nose, throat, muscular 
tissue, anywhere in fact in the whole body which would 
naturally respond, will tend to muffle, sharpen, narrow, or 
in some way to alter the character of the tone. Exercises 
for freedom of tone through freedom of resonators are 
of primary importance in the attainment of purity of tone ; 
but this result is best attained, other things being equal, 
through training to secure direct response in thought and 
feeling. These two processes cannot be separated ; work 



154 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

to promote thinking tends to promote feeling, and vice 
versa ; but for educational purposes they may be considered 
separately. 

Method illustrated. The simpler ways in which qualita- 
tive effects are produced should be pointed out. Onomato- 
poeia is a figure of speech in which an attempt is made to 
represent by the sound of a word the nature of an object 
or action. Buzz, hum, roar, rush, blast, boil, ticktack, 
chickadee, bumblebee, seesaw, mamma, whistle, etc. will 
serve to illustrate. Again, let the learner seek exam- 
ples of a qualitative effect produced by a combination 
of words. 1 

But, as already mentioned, speech quality is something 
more than these representative effects ; it is sympathetic 
response in voice to thought and feeling. In the instances 
referred to the poet compels the reader to give in some 
measure a response in voice. Let the learner turn back 
to Webster's peroration and discover the vast difference, 
from the emotional standpoint, in the two pictures which 
the speaker is painting. Not one speaker in twenty-five 
who are without training in public speaking — training in 
genuine thinking and feeling — will show any appreciable 
change in the quality of his voice in the reading of the 
two widely varying pictures, even where there is capacity 
for it. 

Sometimes a speaker has an emotional quality, but it is a 
conventional one. Like an organ with but one stop, it must 
do service on all occasions. Joy, fear, sorrow, and love 
must all employ the same stop. Any emotion to such a 
person means a conventional mood of one unvaried feeling, 
usually of sadness. 

1 For such effects, see page 147. 



SPEECH QUALITY I 55 

But is not this demand, that specific emotions be felt, in- 
consistent with the suggestion given, that artistic expression 
demands the presence of joy as a fundamental emotion ? 
Will not the presence of such an emotion shut out the 
sympathetic utterance of fear, hate, and similar emotions ? 
At first glance this charge of inconsistency seems true. 
But is it inconceivable that a speaker may enjoy giving 
utterance through vocal interpretation to fear and hatred ? 
It is not impossible of belief that this instinctive, subcon- 
scious joy will not only not interfere with the utterance of 
specific emotions, but, when expressing normal emotions, 
will prevent degeneration into abnormalities. Further, it is 
true that all vocal utterance, in the very nature of things, 
will have a personal, subconscious tinge, wjiich in its noblest 
form is joyous. The expression of the fundamental joy of 
the patriotic outburst in the Webster peroration, already 
given, does not interfere with the utterance of supreme 
disgust at treason ; it serves to enhance it. 

Summary. Speech quality is that department of vocal 
expression which deals with mind revelation through the 
kind of voice. The physical quality generally expresses 
emotions growing out of an exuberance of vitality. The 
intellectual quality, for the most part, denotes absence of 
emotion. The spiritual quality reveals refined and lofty 
emotions. Monotone is usually a fault when, owing to a 
lack of apprehension, varied feeling is expressed in one 
quality of voice. Remedies for faults of speech quality lie 
first in the cultivation of the power to grasp specific emo- 
tions, and second in the training of the voice to secure a 
normal adjustment of the organs of speech. The former 
depends upon the cultivation of the imagination ; the latter 
demands the careful training of the voice for resonance. 



156 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

III. Vocal Program 

Speech rhythm. In the study of this, the fourth vocal 
program, recall the specific object in each of the others : 
in the first, centralization of power, coupled with relaxation 
of the jaw and throat ; in the second, range of voice ; in 
the third, resonance of voice. In the present program 
the learner should seek to develop agility of action in 
the vocal organs, especially in the tongue. The variety of 
movements physically essential in the production of speech 
rhythm can be attained only through such a mastery of 
the action of the tongue that, whether the action be rapid 
or slow, articulation will not fail to give the words an in- 
telligible form. The stammerer and stutterer cannot read 
well. The rhythmic coordination of thought and vocal 
expression is wanting. Complete results, then, in this 
program as in all others, depend upon the growth in the 
action of the mind. Rhythmic speech comes only from 
rhythmic thought and feeling. 

Further, it must be kept in mind that the cultivation of 
the voice, so far as so-called technical work is concerned, 
should not be attempted except under the personal direc- 
tion of a competent instructor. The direct touch of such 
a teacher is invaluable in all vocal training ; but much 
vocal development may be attained without such instruction, 
by the careful, judicious use of the material here offered, 
which, broadly speaking, avoids the use of many technical 
exercises. 

If the student of public speaking in the use of the vocal 
methods of this book has recognized that he is making 
progress in the mastery of the power, range, and resonance 
of his voice, he may, in seeking to promote rhythmic 



SPEECH QUALITY I 57 

development, devote most of his attention to rhythmic con- 
trasts in reading and speaking. The exercises of the fol- 
lowing paragraphs are intended to develop speech rhythm. 
1 . Realize mentally and physically, so far as is possible, 
each specific emotion in the following selections : 

A. Bird of the wilderness, 
Blithesome and cumberless, 

Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea ! 

Emblem of happiness, 

Blest is thy dwelling-place — 
O to abide in the desert with thee ! — Hogg 

B. So live, that when thy summons comes to join 
The innumerable caravan which moves 

To that mysterious realm where each shall take 

His chamber in the silent halls of death, 

Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 

Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 

By an unfaltering trust,- approach thy grave 

Like one that wraps the drapery of his couch 

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. — Bryant 

C. Half choked with rage. King Robert fiercely said, 
" Open : 'tis I, the King ! Art thou afraid? " 
The frightened sexton, muttering, with a curse, 

" This is some drunken vagabond, or worse ! " 
Turned the great key and flung the portal wide. 

Longfellow 

D. The one with yawning made reply : 

" What have we seen ? — Not much have I ! 

Trees, meadows, mountains, groves and streams, 

Blue sky and clouds and sunny gleams." 

The other, smiling, said the same ; 

But with face transfigured and eye of flame : 

" Trees, meadows, mountains, groves and streams ! 

Blue sky and clouds and sunny gleams." 



158 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

E. Airy, fairy Lilian, 
Flitting, fairy Lilian, 

When I ask her if she love me, 
Claps her tiny hands above me, 

Laughing all she can ; 
She '11 not tell me if she love me, 

Cruel little Lilian. — Tennyson 

F. Did you ever notice what life and power the Holy Scriptures 
have when well read ? Have you ever heard of the wonderful 
effect produced by Elizabeth Fry on the criminals of Newgate, by 
simply reading to them the parable of the Prodigal Son? Princes 
and peers of the realm, it is said, counted it a privilege to stand in 
the dismal corridors, among felons and murderers, merely to share 
with them the privilege of witnessing the marvelous pathos which 
genius, taste, and culture could infuse into that simple story. 



Brutus. 


I did send 




To you for gold to pay my legions, 




Which you denied me. . . . 


Cassius. 


I denied you not. 


Brutus. 


You did. 


Cassius. 


I did not : he was but a fool that brought 


y answer 


back. 



2. For further practice use the following numbers 
under exercises for speech rhythm : numbers 8 and 3 5 
in contrast, 1 and 2 in contrast, 3, 6, and 12. 



CHAPTER IV 
SPEECH RHYTHM 
I. Practical Exercises 
i . Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! 

2. Holy ! holy ! holy ! Lord God of Sabaoth. 

3. My Lords : After more than six weeks' possession of the 
papers now before you, on a subject so momentous, at a time when 
the fate of this nation hangs on every hour, the Ministry have at 
length condescended to submit to the consideration of this House, 
intelligence from America with which your Lordships have been 
long and fully acquainted. . . . 

I wish, my Lords, not to lose a day in this urgent pressing crisis. 
An hour now lost in allaying ferments in America may produce 
years of calamity. For my own part, I will not desert, for a moment, 
the conduct of this weighty business, from the first to the last. 
Unless nailed to my bed by the extremity of sickness, I will give it 
unremitted attention. I will knock at the door of this sleeping and 
confounded Ministry, and will rouse them to a sense of their danger. 

Chatham 

4. Hounds are in their couples yelling, 
Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, 
Merrily, merrily mingle they, 
"Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

5. No royal governor sits in yon stately capitol ; no hostile fleet 
for many a year has vexed the waters of our coast ; nor is any army 
but our own ever likely to tread our soil. Not such are our enemies 
to-day. They do not come proudly stepping to the drum-beat, with 
bayonets flashing in the morning sun. But wherever party spirit 
shall strain the ancient guarantees of freedom, or bigotry and igno- 
rance shall lay their fatal hands upon education, or the arrogance of 

l 59 



160 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

caste shall strike at equal rights, or corruption shall poison the very 
springs of national life, there, minute men of liberty, are your Lex- 
ington Green and Concord Bridge ! And, as you love your country 
and your kind, and would have your children rise up and call you 
blessed, spare not the enemy ! Over the hills, out of the earth, down 
from the clouds, pour in resistless might ! Fire from every rock and 
tree, from door and window, from hearthstone and chamber ; hang 
upon his flank and rear from morn to sunset, and so through a land 
blazing with holy indignation, hurl the hordes of ignorance and 
corruption and injustice back, back in utter defeat and ruin. 

Curtis 

6. A hurry of hoofs in a village street, 

A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark, 

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark 

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet : 

That was all ! And yet, through the gloom and the light, 

The fate of a nation was riding that night ; 

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight, 

Kindled the land into flame with its heat. — Longfellow 

7. Two Voices are there ; one is of the sea, 
One of the mountains ; each a mighty Voice : 
In both from age to age thou didst rejoice, 
They were thy chosen music, Liberty ! 
There came a Tyrant, and with holy glee 

Thou fought'st against him ; but hast vainly striven : 

Thou from thy Alpine holds at length art driven, 

Where not a torrent murmurs heard by thee. 

Of one deep bliss thine ear hath been bereft : 

Then cleave, O cleave to that which still is left ; 

For ? high-souled Maid, what sorrow would it be 

That Mountain floods should thunder as before, 

And Ocean bellow from his rocky shore, 

And neither awful Voice be heard by thee ! — Wordsworth 

8. One afternoon as Hilda entered St. Peter's in sombre mood, 
its interior beamed upon her with all the effect of a new creation. 
It seemed an embodiment of whatever the imagination could con- 
ceive, or the heart desire, as a magnificent, comprehensive, majestic 



SPEECH RHYTHM l6l 

symbol of religious faith. . . . The pavement ! it stretched out inim- 
itably, a plain of many-colored marble, where thousands of wor- 
shippers might kneel together, and shadowless angels tread among 
them without brushing their heavenly garments against those earthly 
ones. The roof ! the dome ! Rich, gorgeous, filled with sunshine, 
cheerfully sublime, and fadeless after centuries, those lofty depths 
seemed to translate the heavens to mortal comprehension, and help 
the spirit upward to a yet higher and wider sphere. If religion had 
a material home, was it not here ? — Hawthorne 

9. Cavalier Tunes 

I. MARCHING ALONG 

Kentish Sir Byng stood for his King, 
, Bidding the crop-headed Parliament swing : 
And, pressing a troop unable to stoop 
And see the rogues flourish and honest folk droop, 
Marched them along, fifty-score strong, 
Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. 

God for King Charles ! Pym and such carles 

To the Devil that prompts 'em their treasonous paries ! 

Cavaliers, up ! Lips from the cup, 

Hands from the pasty, nor bite take nor sup 

Till you 're — 

Chorus. — Marching along, fifty-score strong, 

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song. 

Hampden to hell, and his obsequies' knell. 
Serve Hazelrig, Fiennes, and young Harry as well ! 
England, good cheer ! Rupert is near ! 
Kentish and loyalists, keep we not here, 

Chorus. — Marching along, fifty-score strong, 

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song ? 

Then, God for King Charles ! Pym and his snarls 
To the Devil that pricks on such pestilent carles ! 
Hold by the right, you double your might ; 
So, onward to Nottingham, fresh for the fight, 
Chorus. — March we along, fifty-score strong, 

Great-hearted gentlemen, singing this song ! 



l62 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

io. II. GIVE A ROUSE 

King Charles, and who '11 do him right now ? 
King Charles, and who 's ripe for fight now ? 
Give a rouse : here "s, in hell's despite now, 
King Charles ! 

Who gave me the goods that went since ? 
Who raised me the house that sank once ? 
Who helped me to gold I spent since ? 
Who found me in wine you drank once ? 

Chorus. — King Charles, and who '11 do him right now i 
King Charles, and who 's ripe for fight now ? 
Give a rouse : here 's, in hell's despite now, 
King Charles ! . . . 



III. BOOT AND SADDLE 

Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! 
Rescue my castle before the hot day 
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray. 

Chorus. — Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! 

Ride past the suburbs, asleep as you 'd say ; 
Many 's the friend there, will listen and pray 
" God's luck to gallants that strike up the lay — 
Chorus. — Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! " 

Forty miles off, like a roebuck at bay, 
Flouts Castle Brancepeth the Roundheads' array : 
Who laughs, " Good fellows ere this, by my fay, 
Chorus. — Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! " 

Who ? My wife Gertrude ; that, honest and gay, 
Laughs when you talk of surrendering, " Nay ! 
I 've better counsellors ; what counsel they ? 

Chorus. — Boot, saddle, to horse, and away! " — Browning 



SPEECH RHYTHM 163 

Recessional 

A VICTORIAN ODE 

God of our fathers, known of old — 

Lord of our far-flung battle-line — 
Beneath Whose awful Hand we hold 

Dominion over palm and pine — 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget ! 

The tumult and the shouting dies — 

The captains and the kings depart — 
Still stands Thine ancient Sacrifice, 

An humble and a contrite heart. 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget ! 

Far-called our navies melt away — 

On dune and headland sinks the fire — 

Lo, all our pomp of yesterday 
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre ! 

Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, 

Lest we forget — lest we forget ! 

If, drunk with sight of power, we loose 

Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe — 

Such boasting as the Gentiles use 
Or lesser breeds without the Law — 

Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 

Lest we forget — lest we forget ! 

For heathen heart that puts her trust 

In reeking tube and iron shard — 
All valiant dust that builds on dust, 

And guarding calls not Thee to guard — 
For frantic boast and foolish word, 
Thy mercy on Thy People, Lord ! 

Amen. Kipling 



164 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN 'SPEECH 

13. It was a Chicago police station. Half a dozen officers were 
there, watching with keen interest a stirring scene. At one end of the 
room stood a quiet, firm-faced man in citizen's clothes. At the other 
end stood a big policeman. 

" I 'm ready, any time," said the man in citizen's clothes. Slowly 
the big policeman drew a revolver from his hip pocket, aimed steadily 
at the man who had spoken, and fired point blank at his breast. 

"Again," said the quiet man smiling serenely. The policeman 
fired again and again, till he had emptied his revolver. Then they 
all crowded around the man who had received the shots. He was 
still smiling and erect. Unbuttoning his coat, he showed beneath it 
a heavy, quilted vest. It was invented by Cassimir Zieglen, and the 
material and process of manufacture are kept secret. It is guaranteed 
to stop at twenty paces a Colt's forty-four bullet. 

" Bullet-proof vest or not," said one of the policemen with a shrug, 
ft you would n't catch me taking those chances. Why, there might be 
a hole in it, or a weak spot, and then where would you be ? " 

Now that is precisely the difference between the man who succeeds 
and the man who does not. The man who succeeds has an idea. He 
experiments with it. It becomes his life. He works it out. He makes 
it practical. He»tests it by every possible test — by severer tests than 
it can meet in actual experience. Then he wraps himself up in it and 
faces the world. 

tf I am impregnable," he says. " Shoot at me all you wish. My 
idea is invulnerable. I believe in it, I stake my life upon it. Test it 
and me together." 

The world does test it and him ; trust the world for that. Bang, 
bang, bang ! go the revolvers. Revolvers of criticism, of ridicule, of 
abuse, of injustice, of misrepresentation, of neglect, of scorn. 

" Fire again ! " he cries ; " and again, and again ! I believe in my 
idea. I am safe in it. Fire all you please." Such a man succeeds. 
The world always in the end submits to earnestness and faith. 

But the men who shudder and say, ct I would never let myself be 
shot at like that ; why, his idea might have a hole in it," are the men 
at whom, to be sure, the world fires no shots, but they are the men, 
too, over whose graves men fire no honorable salutes after they are 
dead. They are safe, but they are nobodies. — Wells in The Young 
People's Weekly. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 165 

14. A little while ago I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon, 
a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity, and 
gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest 
at last the ashes of that restless man. I leaned over the balustrade and 
thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. 

I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine, contemplating 
suicide. I saw him at Toulon. I saw him putting down the mob in 
the streets of Paris. I saw him at the head of the army of Italy. 
I saw him crossing the bridge of Lodi with the tricolor in his hand. 
I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the Pyramids. I saw him con- 
quer the Alps and mingle the eagles of France with the eagles of the 
crags. I saw him at Marengo, at Ulm and Austerlitz. I saw him in 
Russia, where the infantry of the snow and the cavalry of the wild 
blast scattered his legions like winter's withered leaves. I saw him at 
Leipsic in defeat and disaster, driven by a million bayonets back 
upon Paris — clutched like a wild beast — banished to Elba. I saw 
him escape and retake an empire by the force of his genius. I saw 
him upon the frightful field of Waterloo, where Chance and Fate 
combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king. And I saw him 
at St. Helena, with his hands crossed behind him, gazing out upon 
the sad and solemn sea. 

I thought of the orphans and widows he had made, of the tears 
that had been shed for his glory, and of the only woman who ever 
loved him, pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition. And 
I said, " I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden 
shoes. I would rather have lived in a hut with a vine growing over 
the door, and the grapes growing purple in the amorous kisses of the 
autumn sun. I would rather have been that poor peasant, with my 
loving wife by my side, knitting as the day died out of the sky, with 
my children upon my knees and their arms about me. I would rather 
have been that man, and gone down to the tongueless silence of the 
dreamless dust, than to have been that imperial impersonation of 
force and murder, known as Napoleon the Great." — Ingersoll 

15. "Keep your Eye on the Ball" 

When I was a boy I learned, in playing baseball and tennis, to 
keep my eye on the ball. When I went to college and got my first 



1 66 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

exhilarating taste of football, the coach taught us to keep our eyes on 
the ball. And when I caught the golf fever it was like meeting an 
old friend when the English expert, who was teaching me, said, 
ct Keep your heye on the ball." 

Many people are failures because they keep their eyes on them- 
selves. One great thing about athletics is that self is forgotten for 
the time. Whatever you are doing, bend earnestly to the task. If 
you are only telling a story, think about the story, and not how you 
are telling it. Self-conscious talking becomes stammering. Many a 
good recitation has been spoiled because the speaker has been think- 
ing about his hair or his necktie, his voice or gestures. The preacher 
who put in his sermon cr gesture here," ft weep here," must have 
amused rather than edified his hearers. One of the secrets of success 
is Dr. Edward E. Hale's maxim, " Look out, not in." 

But how can we keep our eyes on the ball ? how avoid looking 
in ? For many, going to college cures self-consciousness. The petty- 
vanities, the narrowing conceits, are mercilessly held up to ridicule • 
and the morbid, dreamy existence of the romance-fed girl vanishes 
in the busy, matter-of-fact life of the college halls. 

But to tc be up and doing " almost everywhere kills the demon of 
self-consciousness. President Roosevelt's praise of the person who 
" does things " should help those who are slaves to " good form." 
Let us bother less about form and work harder for results. The self- 
consciousness of the British soldier cost England millions of pounds 
in the Boer War. Bath tubs, cook stoves, and pianos in the army 
left a bitter memory and broke the prestige of Britain's soldiery. 

Style and fashion are wonderful aids to self-consciousness. There- 
fore avoid modishness. Do not dress in the newest fad. Shun the 
" latest wrinkle " in hats, belts, ties, and gloves. Be neat, but plain. 
Array yourself so as to attract the least attention. Do not be flattered 
when people are constantly referring to your clothes. It is certain 
that the real " you " is smothered beneath yards of ribbon and cloth. 
What you wear ought never to be taken for what you are. 

Refuse to be constantly measuring yourself beside others in looks, 
speech, dress, or abilities. If some one outshines you, keep sweet and 
calm in the serene consciousness that you have done your best. The 
habit of comparing ourselves with others always creates discontent 
and sometimes sours the whole life. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 167 

Let us keep our eyes off ourselves as far as possible. Keep them 
on the ball, and our best self will rise unconsciously to make the stroke 
strong and true. — J. F. Cochran in The Young People's Weekly. 

1 6. We 're foot slog — slog — slog — sloggin' over Africa ! 
Foot — foot — foot — foot — sloggin' over Africa — 
(Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again !) 

There 's no discharge in the war ! 
Seven — six — eleven — five — nine — an' — twenty mile to- 
day — 
Four — eleven — seventeen — thirty-two the day before — 
(Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again !) 

There 's no discharge in the war ! 
Don't — don't — don't — don't — look at what's in front of you 
(Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin! up and down again !) 
Men — men — men — men — men go mad with watchin' 'em, 

An' there 's no discharge in the war. 
Try — try — try — try — to think o' something different — 
Oh — my — God — keep — me from goin' lunatic ! 
(Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again !) 

There 's no discharge in the war. 
Count — count — count — count — the bullets in the bando- 
liers ; 
If — your — eyes — drop — they will get atop o' you 
(Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again) — 

There 's no discharge in the war ! 
We — can — stick — out — 'unger — thirst and weariness, 
But — not — not — not the chronic sight of 'em — 
Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again, 

An' there 's no discharge in the war ! 
'T aint — so — bad — by — day — because o' company, 
But night — brings — long — strings o' forty thousand million 
Boots — boots — boots — boots, movin' up and down again. 

There 's no discharge in the war ! 
I — 'ave — marched — six — weeks in 'ell. an' certify 
It — is — not — fire — devils dark or anything 
But — boots — boots — boots, movin' up an' down again. 

An' there 's no discharge in the war ! — Kipling 



168 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

1 7. He must go — go — go away from here ! 
On the other side the world he 's overdue. 

'Send your road is clear before you when the old 

Spring-fret comes o'er you 
And the Red Gods call for you ! — Kipling 

18. I dip and I surge and I swing 

In the rip of the racing tide, 
By the gates of doom I sing, 

On the horns of death I ride. — Kipling 

19. Day is dying! Float, O song, 

Down the westward river, 
Requiem chanting to the Day — 
Day, the mighty Giver. 

Pierced by shafts of Time he bleeds, 

Melted rubies sending 
Through the river and the sky, 

Earth and heaven blending ; 

All the long-drawn earthy banks 

Up to the cloud-land lifting : 
Slow between them drifts the swan, 

'Twixt two heavens drifting. 

Wings half-open like a flow'r 

Inly deeper flushing, 
Neck and breast as virgin's pure — 

Virgin proudly blushing. 

Day is dying ! Float, O swan, 

Down the ruby river ; 
Follow, song, in requiem 

To the mighty Giver. — George Eliot 

20. Push off the boat, 

Quit, quit the shore, 

The stars will guide us back : — 



SPEECH RHYTHM 169 

O gathering cloud, 
O wide, wide sea, 

O waves that keep no track ! 

On through the pines ! 
The pillared woods, 

Where silence breathes sweet breath : — 
O labyrinth, 

O sunless gloom, 

The other side of death ! —George Eliot 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he : 

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three ; 

" Good speed ! " cried the watch, as the gate-bolts 

undrew ; 
" Speed ! " echoed the wall to us galloping through ; 
Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 
And into the midnight we galloped abreast. — Browning 

My liege, I did deny no prisoners. 
But I remember, when the fight was done, 
When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, 
Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, 
Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, 
Fresh as a bridegroom ; and his chin new reap'd 
Show'd like a stubble-land % at harvest-home ; 
He was perfumed like a milliner : 
And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held 
A pouncet-box, which ever and anon 
He gave his nose and took 't away again ; 
' Who therewith angry, when it next came there. 
Took it in snuff : and still he smiled and talk'd, 
And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, 
He caird them untaught knaves, unmannerly, 
To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse 
Betwixt the wind and his nobility. 
With many holiday and lady terms 
He question'd me ; amongst the rest, demanded 
My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. 



lyo VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, 
To be so pester'd with a popinjay, 
Out of my grief and my impatience, 
Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, 
He should, or he should not ; for he made me mad 
To see him shine- so brisk and smell so sweet 
And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman 
Of guns and drums and wounds, — God save the mark ! — 
And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth 
Was parmaceti for an inward bruise ; 
And that it was great pity, so it was, 
This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd 
Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, 
Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd 
So cowardly : and but for these vile guns, 
He would himself have been a soldier. 
This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, 
I answer'd indirectly, as I said ; 
And I beseech you, let not his report 
Come current for an accusation 
Betwixt my love and your high majesty. — Shakespeare 

23. Muskeeters are a game bug, but they won't bite at a hook. 
There is millyuns ov them kaught every year. This makes the 
market for them unstiddy, the supply always exceeding the demand. 
The muskeeter is born on the sly, and cums to maturity quicker than 
enny other ov the domestic animiles. A muskeeter at three hours old 
iz just az reddy and anxious to go into bizziness for himself as ever 
he was, and bites the fust time az sharp and natral az red pepper duz. 
The muskeeter haz a good ear for musik and sings without notes. 
The song ov the muskeeter iz monotonous to sum folks, but in me 
it stirs up the memories ov other days. I hav' lade awake all nite 
long menny a time and listened to the sweet anthems ov the mus- 
keeter. I am satisfied that there want nothing made in vain, but i kant 
help thinking how mighty kluss the muskeeter cum to it. The mus- 
keeter has inhabited this world since its creashun, and will probably 
hang around here until bizziness kloses. Whare the muskeeter goes 
to in the winter is a standing konundrum, which all the naturalists 



SPEECH RHYTHM 171 

hav' giv' up, but we kno' that he dont go far, for he is on hand early 
each year with his probe fresh ground and polished. Muskeeters 
must be one of the luxurys ov life, they certainly aint one ov the 
necessarys, not if we kno 1 ourselves. — Henry W. Shaw 

24. It was up in the morn we rose betimes 
From the hall-floor hard by the row of limes. 
It was but John the Red and I, 

And we were the brethren of Gregory ; 
And Gregory the Wright was one 
Of the valiant men under the sun. 
And what he bade us that we did. 
For ne'er he kept his counsel hid. 
So out we went, and the cluttering latch 
Woke up the swallows under the thatch. 
It was dark in the porch, but our scythes we felt, 
And thrust the whetstone under the belt. 
. Through the cold garden boughs we went 
Where the tumbling roses shed their scent. 
Then out a-gates and away we strode 
O'er the dewy straws on the dusty road, 
And there was the mead by the town-reeve's close 
Where the hedge was sweet with the wilding rose. 

William Morris in " The Folk-Mote by the River" 

25. What a piece of work is a man ! how noble in reason ! how 
infinite in faculty ! in form and moving how express and admirable ! 
in action how like an angel ! in apprehension how like a god ! 

Shakespeare 

26. Sir Pete?- Teazle. Now may all the plagues of marriage be 
doubled on me, if ever I try to be friends with you any more — 

Lady Teazle. So much the better. 

Sir Peter Teazle. No — no madam 'tis evident you never cared 
a pin for me — I was a madman to marry you — a pert, rural coquette, 
that had refused half the honest squires in the neighborhood. 

Lady Teazle. And I am sure I was a fool to marry you — an old 
dangling bachelor, who was single at fifty — only because he never 
could meet with any one who would have him. 



172 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Sir Peter Teazle. Aye — aye — madam — but you were pleased 
enough to listen to me — you never had such an offer before — 

Lady Teazle. No — didn't I refuse Sir Jeremy Terrier — who 
everybody said would have been a better match — for his estate is 
just as good as yours — and he has broke his neck since we have 
been married ! — Sheridan 

27. That patriotism which, catching its inspiration from the im- 
mortal God, and, leaving at an immeasurable distance all lesser, 
groveling, personal interests and feelings, animates and prompts to 
deeds of self-sacrifice, of valor, of devotion, and of death itself, that 
is public virtue ; that is the noblest, the sublimest of all public 
virtues. — Clay 

28. When a deed is done for freedom, through the broad earth's 

aching breast 
Runs a thrill of joy prophetic, trembling on from east to west. 

29. Indeed, we are but shadows ; we are not endowed with real 
life, and all that seems most real about us is but the thinnest sub- 
stance of a dream, — till the heart be touched. That touch creates 
us, — then we begin to be, — thereby we are beings of reality and 
inheritors of eternity. — Hawthorne 

30. Oh, I 'm so tired ! Help me along ! 

31. Concerning Mosquitoes 

Feelingly dedicated to their discounted bills 

Skeeters have the reputation 
Of continuous application 
To their poisonous profession ; 
Never missing nightly session, 
Wearing out your life's existence 
By their practical persistence. 

Would I had the power to veto 

Bills of every mosquito ; 

Then I 'd pass a peaceful summer, 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 73 

With no small nocturnal hummer 
Feasting on my circulation, 
For his regular potation. 

Oh ! that rascally mosquito ! 
He 's a fellow you must see to ; 
Which you can't do if you 're napping, 
But must evermore be slapping 
Quite promiscuous on your features ; 
For you '11 seldom hit the creatures. 

But the thing most aggravating 
Is the cool and calculating 
Way in which he tunes his harpstring 
To the melody of sharpsting ; 
Then proceeds to serenade you, 
And successfully evade you. 

When a skeeter gets through stealing, 
He sails upward to the ceiling, 
Where he sits in deep reflection 
How he perched on your complection, 
Filled with solid satisfaction 
At results of his extraction. 

Would you know, in this connection, 

How you may secure protection 

For yourself and city cousins 

From these bites and from these buzzin's ? 

Show your sense by quickly getting 

For each window — skeeter netting. 

32. As when about the silver moon, when air is free from wind, 
And stars shine clear, to whose sweet beams, high prospects, 

and the brows 
Of all steep hills and pinnacles, thrust up themselves for shows, 
And even the lowly valleys joy to glitter in their sight, 
When the unmeasured firmament bursts to disclose her light, 
And all the signs in heaven are seen, that glad the shepherd's 
heart ; 



174 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

So many fires disclosed their beams, made by the Trojan part, 
Before the face of Ilion, and her bright turrets showed. 
A thousand courts of guard kept fires, and every guard allowed 
Fifty stout men, by whom their horse eat oats and hard white 

corn. 
And all did wishfully expect the silver-throned morn. 

Chapman in Iliad, Book VIII. 

33. It is an ancient Mariner, 
And he stoppeth one of three. 

" By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, 
Now wherefore stopp'st thou me ? " — Coleridge 

34. Mysterious Night ! when our first parent knew 
Thee from report divine, and heard thy name, 
Did he not tremble for this lovely frame, 
This glorious canopy of light and blue? 

Yet 'neath a curtain of translucent dew, 
Bathed in the rays of the great setting flame, 
Hesperus with the host of heaven came, 
And lo ! creation widened in man's view. 
Who could have thought such darkness lay concealed 
Within thy beams, O Sun ! or who could find, 
Whilst fly, and leaf, and insect stood revealed, 
That to such countless orbs thou mad'st us blind ? 
Why do we, then, shun death with anxious strife ? 
If light can thus deceive, wherefore not life ? 

J. B. White 

35. Her First Dawn 

At last she began to be aware of a wonderful revolution ; — the 
countenance with which the pines regarded her began insensibly to 
change : the grass too, short as it was, and the whole winding stair- 
case of the brook's course, began to wear a solemn freshness of ap- 
pearance. And this slow transfiguration reached her heart, and played 
upon it, and transpierced it with a serious thrill. She looked all 
about ; the whole face of nature looked back, brimful of meaning, 
finger on lip, leaking its glad secret. She looked up. Heaven was 



SPEECH RHYTHM I 75 

almost emptied of stars. Such as still lingered shone with a changed 
and waning brightness, and began to faint in their stations. And the 
color of the sky itself was most wonderful ; for the rich blue of the 
night had now melted and softened and brightened ; and there had 
succeeded in its place a hue that has no name, and that is never seen 
but as herald of the morning. " O ! " she cried, joy catching at her 
voice, ?t O ! it is the dawn ! " — Stevenson 

36. Thus I 
Pass by 

And die 
As one 
Unknown 

And gone. — Herrick 

37. The raging rocks 
And shivering shocks 
Shall break the locks 

Of prison gates : 
And Phibbus' car 
Shall shine from far 
And make and mar 

The foolish Fates. — Shakespeare 

38. The world is too much with us ; late and soon. 
Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : 
Little we see in Nature that is ours ; 

We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! 
The Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; 
The winds that will be howling at all hours. 
And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers : 
For this, for everything, we are out of tune : 
It moves us not. — Great God ! I 'd rather be 
A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn ; 
So might I, standing on this pleasant lea. 
Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ; 
Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea ; 
Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. 

Wordsworth 



176 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

39. Fear death ? — to feel the fog in my throat, 

The mist in my face, 
When the snows begin, and the blasts denote 

I am nearing the place, 
The power of the night, the press of the storm, 

The post of the foe ; 
Where he stands, the Arch Fear in a visible form, 

Yet the strong man must go. — Browning 

40. Ballad of Francois of Villon 

Bird of the bitter bright gray golden morn 
Scarce risen upon the dusk of dolorous years, 

First of us all and sweetest singer born, 

Whose far shrill note the world of new men hears, 
Cleave the cold shuddering shade as twilight clears ; 

When song new-born put off the old world's attire 

And felt its tune on her changed lips expire, 
Writ foremost on the roll of them that came 

Fresh girt for the service of the latter lyre, 
Villon, our sad bad glad mad brother's name ! 

Swinburne 

41. Far from the sun and summer-gale, 

In thy green lap was Nature's Darling laid, 

What time, where lucid Avon stray'd, 

To Him the mighty Mother did unveil 

Her awful face : The dauntless Child 

Stretch'd forth his little arms, and smiled. 

This pencil take (she said) whose colours clear 

Richly paint the vernal year : 

Thine too these golden keys, immortal Boy ! 

This can unlock the gates of Joy ; 

Of Horror that, and thrilling Fears, 

Or ope the sacred source of sympathetic Tears. 

Nor second He, that rode sublime 
Upon the seraph-wings of Ecstasy, 
The secrets of th' Abyss to spy. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 177 

He pass'd the flaming bounds of Place and Time : 

The living Throne, the sapphire-blaze, 

Where Angels tremble, while they gaze, 

He saw ; but blasted with excess of light, 

Closed his eyes in endless night. 

Behold, where Dryden's less presumptuous car, 

Wide o'er the fields of Glory bear 

Two Coursers of ethereal race, 

With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-resounding pace. 

Hark, his hands the lyre explore ! 
Bright-eyed Fancy hovering o'er 
Scatters from her pictur'd urn 
Thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. 
But ah ! 't is heard no more — 
O Lyre divine, what daring Spirit 
Wakes thee now ? tho' he inherit 
Nor the pride, nor ample pinion, 
That the Theban Eagle bear 
Sailing with supreme dominion 
Thro' the azure deep of air : 
Yet oft before his infant eyes would run 
Such forms, as glitter in the Muse's ray 
With orient hues, unborrow'd of the Sun : 
Yet shall he mount, and keep his distant way 
Beyond the limits of a vulgar fate, 
Beneath the Good how far — but far above the Great. 

Gray in M The Progress of Poesy " 

42. Harvard Commemoration Ode 

Bow down, dear Land, for thou hast found release ! 
Thy God, in these distempered days, 
Hath taught thee the sure wisdom of His ways, 
And through thine enemies hath wrought thy peace ! 

Bow down in prayer and praise ! 
No poorest in thy borders but may now 
Lift to the juster skies a man's enfranchised brow, 
Beautiful ! my Country ! ours once more ! 



178 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Smoothing thy gold of war-dishevelled hair 
O'er such sweet brows as never other wore, 

And letting thy set lips, 

Freed from wrath's pale eclipse, 
The rosy edges of their smile lay bare, 
What words divine of lover or of poet 
Could tell our love and make thee know it, 
Among the Nations bright beyond compare ? 

What were our lives without thee? 

What all our lives to save thee ? 

We reck not what we gave thee ; 

We will not dare to doubt thee, 
But ask whatever else, and we will dare ! — Lowell 

43. The love which survives the tomb is one of the noblest attri- 
butes of the soul. If it has its woes, it has its delights; and when 
the overwhelming burst of grief is calmed into the gentle tear of 
recollection ; when the sudden anguish and the convulsive agony over 
the present ruins of all that we most loved, is softened away into 
pensive meditation on all that it was in the days of its loveliness, who 
would root out such a sorrow from the heart ? Though it may some- 
times throw a passing cloud over the bright hour of gayety, or spread 
a deeper sadness over the hour of gloom, yet who would exchange 
it even for the song of pleasure, or the burst of revelry ? No, there 
is a voice from the tomb sweeter than song. There is a remembrance 
of the dead to which we turn from the charms of the living. 

44. O sing unto the Lord a new song : 
Sing unto the Lord, all the earth. 
Sing unto the Lord, bless his name ; 
Shew forth his salvation from day to day. 
Declare his glory among the nations, 

His marvellous works among all the peoples. 

Psalm xcvi, 1-3 

45. He lived in a cave by the seas, 

He lived upon oysters and foes, 
But his list of forbidden degrees 



SPEECH RHYTHM 179 

An extensive morality shows : 

Geological evidence goes 
To prove he had never a pan, 

But he shaved with a shell when he chose, 
'T was the manner of Primitive Man ! 

He worshipped the rain and the breeze, 

He worshipped the river that flows, 
And the Dawn and the Moon and the trees 

And bogies and serpents and crows ; 

He buried his dead with their toes 
Tucked up, an original plan, 

Till their knees came right under their nose ; 
'T was the manner of Primitive Man ! 

His communal wives, at his ease, 

He would curb with occasional blows ; 
Or his state had a queen, like the bees 

(As another philosopher trows) ; 

When he spoke, it was never in prose, 
But he sang in a strain that would scan, 

For (to doubt it, perchance were morose) 
'T was the manner of Primitive Man. 



Max, proudly your Aryans pose, 
But their rigs they undoubtedly ran. 

For as every Darwinian knows, 
'T was the manner of Primitive Man. — Lang 

46. Too hard it is to sing 

In these untuneful times, 
When only coin can ring, 

And no one cares for rhymes ! 

Alas ! for him who climbs 
To Aganippe's spring : — 
Too hard it is to sing 

In these untuneful times ! 



180 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

His kindred clip his wing ; 

His feet the critic limes ; 
If Fame her laurel bring 

Old age his forehead rimes : — 
Too hard it is to sing 

In these untuneful times ! — Austin Dobson 

47. A man must live ! We justify 
Low shift and trick to treason high, 

A little vote for a little gold, 
To a whole senate bought and sold, 
With this self-evident reply. 

But is it so ? Pray tell me why 
Life at such cost you have to buy? 
In what religion were you told 
"A man must live " ? 

There are times when a man must die. 

Imagine for a battle-cry 

From soldiers with a sword to hold — 
From soldiers with the flag unfurled — 

This coward's whine, this liar's lie, 
"A man must live " ! 

48. Wouldst thou not be content to die 

When low-hung fruit is hardly clinging 
And golden Autumn passes by ? 

Beneath this delicate rose-gray sky, 

While sunset bells are faintly ringing, 
Wouldst thou not be content to die ? 

For wintry webs of mist on high 

Out of the muffled earth are springing, 
And golden Autumn passes by. 

O now when pleasures fade and fly, 

And Hope her southward flight is winging, 
Wouldst thou not be content to die ? 



SPEECH RHYTHM l8l 

Lest winter come, with wailing cry 
His cruel icy bondage bringing, 
When golden Autumn hath passed by ; 

And thou with many a tear and sigh, 

While life her wasted hands is wringing, 
Shall pray in vain for leave to die 
When golden Autumn hath passed by. — Gosse 

49. In his arms thy silly lamb, 

Lo ! he gathers to his breast ! 
See, thou sadly bleating dam, 
See him lift thy silly lamb ! 
Hear it cry, " How blest I am ! — 

Here is love, and love is rest." 
In his arms thy silly lamb 

See him gather to his breast ! — Macdonald 

50. The Moods 

Literature differs from explanatory and scientific writing in being 
wrought about a mood, or a community of moods, as the body is 
wrought about an invisible soul ; and if it uses argument, theory, 
erudition, observation, and seems to grow hot in assertion or denial, 
it does so merely to make us partakers at the banquet of moods. It 
seems to me that these moods are the laborers and messengers of 
the Ruler of All, the gods of the ancient days ascending and de- 
scending upon their shining ladder ; and that argument, theory, 
erudition, observation, are merely what Blake called rc little devils 
who fight for themselves," illusions of our visible, passing life, who 
must be made serve the moods, or we have no part in eternity. 
Everything that can be seen, touched, measured, explained, under- 
stood, argued over, is to the imaginative artist nothing more than a 
means, for he belongs to the invisible life, and delivers its ever new 
and ever ancient revelation. We hear much of his needs for the 
restraints of reason, but the only restraint that he can obey is the 
mysterious instinct that has made him an artist, and that teaches him 
to discover immortal moods in mortal desires, an undecaying hope in 
our trivial ambitions, a divine love in sexual passion. — Yeats 



1 82 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

51. Press Ox ! 

Press on ! Never despair ; never be discouraged, however stormy 
the heavens, however dark the way ; however great the difficulties. 
and repeated the failures, press on ! 

52. The storm increased with the night. The sea was lashed 
into tremendous confusion. There was a fearful, sullen sound of 
rushing waves and broken surges. Deep called unto deep. At times 
the black column of clouds overhead seemed rent asunder by flashes 
of lightning which quivered along the foaming billows and made the 
succeeding darkness doubly terrible. The thunders bellowed over 
the wild waste of waters, and were echoed and prolonged by the 
mountain waves. As I saw the ship staggering and plunging among 
these roaring caverns, it seemed miraculous that she regained her 
balance or preserved her buoyancy. Her yards would dip into the 
water : her bow was almost buried beneath the waves. Sometimes 
an impending surge appeared ready to overwhelm her, and nothing 
but a dexterous movement of the helm preserved her from the shock. 

When I retired to my cabin, the awful scene still followed me. 
The whistling of the wind through the rigging sounded like funereal 
wailings. The creaking of the masts, the straining and groaning of 
bulk-heads, as the ship labored in the weltering sea, were frightful. 
As I heard the waves rushing along the sides of the ship, and roar- 
ing in my very ear, it seemed as if Death were raging round this 
floating prison, seeking for his prey : the mere starting of a nail, 
the yawning of a seam, might give him entrance. — Irving 

53. Ye stand here now like giants, as ye are! The strength of 
brass is in your toughened sinews; but to-morrow some Roman 
Adonis, breathing sweet odors from his curly locks, shall come, and 
with his lily fingers pat your brawny shoulders, and bet his sesterces 
upon your blood ! Hark ! Hear ye yon lion roaring in his den ? 'T is 
three days since he tasted meat ; but to-morrow he shall break his 
fast upon your flesh ; and ye shall be a dainty meal for him. 

If ye are brutes, then stand here like fat oxen waiting for the 
butcher's knife ; if ye are men, follow me ! strike down yon sentinel, 
and gain the mountain-passes, and there do bloody work as did your 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 83 

sires at old Thermopylae ! Is Sparta dead ? Is the old Grecian spirit 
frozen in your veins, that ye do crouch and cower like base-born 
slaves beneath your master's lash ? O comrades ! warriors ! Thra- 
cians ! if we must fight, let us fight for ourselves ; if we must 
slaughter, let us slaughter our oppressors ; if we must die, let us die 
under the open sky, by the bright waters, in noble, honorable battle. 

Kellogg 

54. You cannot, my lords, you cannot conquer America. What 
is your present situation there ? We do not know the worst, but we 
know that in three campaigns we have done nothing and suffered 
much. You may swell every expense, and strain every effort, accu- 
mulate every assistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of 
every German despot ; your attempts : will be forever vain and 
impotent. — Pitt 

55. As one looks round upon the community to-day, how clear 
the problem of hundreds of unhappy lives appears. Do we not all 
know men for whom it is just as clear as daylight that that is what 
they need, — the sacrifice of themselves for other people ? Rich men 
with all their wealth are weary and wretched : learned men whose 
learning only makes them querulous and jealous ; believing men 
whose faith is always soaring into bigotry and envy, — every man 
knows what these men need : just something which shall make 
them let themselves go out into the open ocean of complete self- 
sacrifice. They are rubbing and fretting and chafing themselves 
against the wooden wharves of their own interests to which they are 
tied. Sometime or other a great, slow, quiet tide, or a great, strong, 
furious storm, must come and break every rope that binds them, 
and carry them clear out to sea: and then they will for the first 
time know the true, manly joy for which a man was made, as a ship 
for the first time knows the full joy for which a ship was made, 
when she trusts herself to the open sea and, with the wharf left far 
behind, feels the winds over her and the waters under her, and 
recognizes her true life. Only, the trust to the great ocean must be 
complete. No trial trip will do. No ship can tempt the sea and 
learn its glory, so long as she goes moored by any rope, however 
long, by which she means to be drawn back again if the sea grows 
too rough. The soul that trifles and toys with self-sacrifice never 



1 84 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

can get its true joy and power. Only the soul that with an over- 
whelming impulse and a perfect trust gives itself up forever to the 
life of other men, finds the delight and peace which such complete 
self-surrender has to give. 

56. Before every well-done work a vision comes. We dream 
before we accomplish. We start with the glorified image of what we 
are to do shining before our eyes, and it is its splendor that en- 
courages and entices us through all the drudgery of the labor that 
we meet. The captain dreams out his battle sleeping in his tent. 
The quick and subtle-brained inventor has visions of his new wonder 
of machinery before the first toothed wheel is fitted to its place. You 
merchants see the great enterprise that is to make your fortune 
break out of vacancy and develop all its richness to you as if it were 
a very inspiration from above. Nay, what is all our boyhood, that 
comes before our life, and thinks and pictures to itself what life 
shall be, that fancies and resolves and is impatient, — what is it but 
just the vision before the work, the dream of Europe coming to 
many a young life, as it sleeps at Troas, on the margin of the sea? 
The visions before the work, — it is their strength that conquers the 
difficulties, and lifts men up out of their failures, and redeems the 
tawdriness or squalidness of the labor that succeeds. And such pre- 
paratory visions, the best of them, take the form of importunate de- 
mands. The man hears the world crying out for just this thing which 
he is going to start to do to-morrow morning. This battle is to save 
the cause. This new invention is to turn the tide of wealth. This 
mighty bargain is to make trade another thing. The world must 
have it. And the long vision of boyhood is in the same strain too. 
There is something in him, this new boy says, which other men 
have never had. His new life has its own distinctive difference. He 
will fill some little unfilled necessary place. He will touch some 
little untouched spring. The world needs him. 

$j. Ideality, magnanimity, and bravery are what make the heroes. 
These are what glorify certain lives that stand through history as 
the lights and beacons of mankind. The materialist, the skeptic, the 
coward, he cannot be a hero. We talk sometimes about the unheroic 
character of modern life. We say that there can be no heroes now- 
adays. We point to our luxurious living for the reason. But oh, my 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 85 

friends, it is not in your silks and satins, not in your costly houses 
and your sumptuous tables, that your unheroic "lives consist. It is in 
the absence of great inspiring ideas, of generous enthusiasms, and 
of the courage of self-forge tfulness. It may be that you must throw- 
away your comfortable living to get these things ; but your lack of 
heroism is not in your comfortable living, but in the absence of these 
things. Do not blame a mere accident for what lies so much deeper. 
There are moments when you bear your sorrows, when you watch 
your dying, when you bury your dead, when you are anxiously 
teaching your children, when you resist a great temptation, when 
your faith or your country is in danger ; there are such moments 
with all when you seize the idea of human living and are made 
generous and brave because of it. Then, for all your modern dress, 
for all your modern parlor where you stand, you are heroic like 
David, like Paul, like any of God's knights in any of the ages 
which are most remote and picturesque. Then you catch some 
glimpses of a region into which you might enter, and where, with 
no blast of trumpets or waving of banners, you might be heroic all 
the time. 

58. And as Jesus passed by, he saw a man which was blind from 
his birth. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, 
this man, or his parents, that he was born blind? Jesus answered, 
Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents : but that the works 
of God should be made manifest in him. I must work the works of 
him that sent me, while it is day : the night cometh, when no man 
can work. As long as I ami in the world, I am the light of the world. 
When he had thus spoken, he spat on the ground, and made clay of 
the spittle, and he anointed the eyes of the blind man with the clay, 
and said unto him, Go, wash in the pool of Siloam. He went his way 
therefore, and washed, and came seeing. 

The neighbours therefore, and they which before had seen him 
that he was blind, said, Is not this he that sat and begged? Some 
said, This is he : others said, He is like him : but he said, I am he. 
Therefore said they unto him, How were thine eyes opened? He 
answered and said, A man that is called Jesus made clay, and anointed 
mine eyes, and said unto me. Go to the pool of Siloam, and wash : 
and I went and washed, and I received sight. Then said they unto 
him. Where is he ? He said. I know not. 



1 86 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

They brought to the Pharisees him that aforetime was blind. And 
it was the sabbath day when Jesus made the clay, and opened his 
eyes. Then again the Pharisees also asked him how he had received 
his sight. He said unto them, He put clay upon mine eyes, and I 
washed, and do see. Therefore said some of the Pharisees, This man 
is not of God, because he keepeth not the sabbath day. Others said, 
How can a man that is a sinner do such miracles ? And there was a 
division among them. They say unto the blind man again, What 
sayest thou of him, that he hath opened thine eyes ? He said, He is 
a prophet. 

But the Jews did not believe concerning him, that he had been 
blind, and received his sight, until they called the parents of him that 
had received his sight. And they asked them, saying, Is this your 
son, who ye say was born blind ? how then doth he now see ? His 
parents answered them and said, We know that this is our son, and 
that he was born blind : but by what means he now seeth, we know 
not ; or who hath opened his eyes, we know not : he is of age ; ask 
him : he shall speak for himself. . . . 

Then again called they the man that was blind, and said unto him, 
Give God the praise : we know that this man is a sinner. He an- 
swered and said, Whether he be a sinner or no, I know not : one 
thing I know, that, whereas I was blind, now I see. Then said they 
to him again, W T hat did he to thee ? how opened he thine eyes ? He 
answered them, I have told you already, and ye did not hear: where- 
fore would ye hear it again ? will ye also be his disciples ? Then they 
reviled him, and said, Thou art his disciple ; but we are Moses' 
disciples. We know that God spake unto Moses : as for this fellow, 
we know not from whence he is. The man answered and said unto 
them, Why herein is a marvellous thing, that ye know not from 
whence he is, and yet he hath opened mine eyes. Now we know 
that God heareth not sinners : but if any man be a worshipper of 
God, and doeth his will, him he heareth. Since the world began was 
it not heard that any man opened the eyes of one that was born blind. 
If this man were not of God, he could do nothing. They answered 
and said unto him, Thou wast altogether born in sins, and dost thou 
teach us ? And they cast him out. 

Jesus heard that they had cast him out; and when he had found 
him, he said unto him, Dost thou believe on the Son of God? He 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 87 

answered and said, Who is he, Lord, that I might believe on him ? 
And Jesus said unto him, Thou hast both seen him, and it is he that 
talketh with thee. And he said, Lord, I believe. And he worshipped 
him. — John ix, 1-21, 24-38. 



59. Now fades the last long streak of snow, 

Now burgeons every maze of quick 
About the flowering squares, and thick 
By ashen roots the violets blow. 

Now rings the woodland loud and long, 
The distance takes a lovelier hue, 
And drown'd in yonder living blue 

The lark becomes a sightless song. 

Now dance the lights on lawn and lea, 
The flocks are whiter down the vale, 
And milkier every milky sail 

On winding stream or distant sea ; 

Where now the seamew pipes, or dives 
In yonder greening gleam, and fly 
The happy birds, that change their sky 

To build and brood ; that live their lives 

From land to land : and in my breast 
Spring wakens too ; and my regret 
Becomes an April violet, 

And buds and blossoms like the rest. — Tennyson 

60. A Prose Lyric 

Blossom week in Maryland ! The air steeped in perfume and soft 
as a caress ; the sky a luminous gray interwoven with threads of 
silver, flakings of pearl, and tiny scales of opal. 

All the hill-sides smothered in bloom — of peach, cherry, and pear; 
in waves, windrows, and drifts of pink and ivory. Here and there, 
fluffy white, a single tree upheld like a bride's bouquet ready for my 
lady's hand when she goes to meet her lord. In the marshes flames 



188 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

of fringed azaleas and the tracings of budding birch and willow out- 
spread like the sticks of fans. At their feet, shouldering their way 
upward, big dock leaves, — vigorous, lusty leaves, — eager to flaunt 
their verdure in the new awakening. Everywhere the joyous songs of 
busy birds fresh from the Southland — flying shuttles these, of black, 
blue and brown, weaving homes in the loom of branch and bud. 

F. Hopkinson Smith 
By permission of the publishers, Charles Scribner 's Sons 

6 1. Scenes from Richelieu 

Act II, Scene II. /;/ the Cardinal's Palace 

Richelieu {entering). And you will engage to give the 
Duke's dispatch to whom I send ? 

Voice. Ay, marry ! 

Richelieu (aside). Huguet ? No ; 
He will be wanted elsewhere. Joseph ? zealous, 
But too well known ; too much the elder brother. 
Mauprat? alas! his wedding-day ! 
Francois ? the man of men ! unnoted, young, 
Ambitious. (Calls) Franc, ois ! Frangois! 
Follow this fair lady. 

Find him suitable garments, Marion ; (to Frangois) take 
My fleetest steed ; arm thyself to the teeth ; 
A packet will be given you with orders, 
No matter what ! The instant that your hand 
Closes upon it — clutch it, like your honor, 
Which death alone can steal, or ravish ; set 
Spurs to your steed ; be breathless till you stand 
Again before me. Stay, sir ! You will find me 
Two short leagues hence, at Ruelle, in my castle. 
Young man, be blithe ! for, note me, from the hour 
I grasp that packet, think your guardian star 
Rains fortunes on you ! 

Voice. If I fail — 

Richeliett. Fail — 
In the lexicon of youth, which Fate reserves 
For a bright manhood, there 's no such word 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 89 

As fail. You will instruct him further, Marion. 
Follow her but at a distance. Speak not to her 
Till you are housed. Farewell, boy ! Never say 
tf Fail " again ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Voice. I will not ! 

Richelieu. There 's my young hero. 
So they would seize my person in this place ! 
I cannot guess their scheme. But my retinue 
Is here too large ! A single traitor could 
Strike impotent the fate of thousands ; Joseph. 
Art sure of Huguet ? Think, we hanged his father ! 

Voice. You 've heaped favors on the son. 

Richelieu. Trash ! favors past, that 's nothing ! In his hours 
Of confidence with you, has he named the favors 
To come he counts on ? 

Voice. Yes, a colonel's rank, and letters of nobility. 

Richelieu. What, Huguet ? Colonel and nobleman ! 
My bashful Huguet! That can never be ! 
We have him not the less. We '11 promise it ! 
And see the king withholds ! — Ah, kings are oft 
A great convenience to a minister ! 
No wrong to Huguet either ; Moralists 
Say, Hope is sweeter than possession ! — Yes ! — 
We '11 count on Huguet ! Favors past do gorge 
Our dogs ; leave service drowsy — dull the scent, 
Slacken the speed ; — favors to come, my Joseph, 
Produce a lusty, hungry gratitude, 
A ravenous zeal, that of the commonest cur 
Would make a Cerberus. — Bulwer 

62. Act III, Scene I. /;/ the Cardinal's Palace 

Enter Francois hastily, and in part disguised 

Richelie^l {flinging away book). Philosophy, thou liest ! 
Quick — the dispatch ! Power — Empire ! Boy — the packet ! 

Francois. Kill me, my Lord. 

Richelieu. They knew thee — they suspected — they gave it 
not — 



190 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Franqois. He gave it — he — the Count 
De Baradas — with his own hand he gave it ! 

Richelieu. Baradas ! Joy ! out with it ! 

Franqois. Listen ! 
And then dismiss me to the headsman. 

Richelieu. Ha ! Go on. 

Franqois. They led me to a chamber — There 
Orleans and Baradas — and some half-score, 
Whom I knew not — were met — 

Richelieu. Not more ! 

Franqois. But from 
The adjoining chamber broke the din of voices, 
The clattering tread of armed men ; at times 
A shriller cry, that yelled out, tf Death to Richelieu ! " 

Richelieu. Speak not of me ; thy country is in danger ! 
Spare not thy life ? who spake of life ? 
I bade thee grasp the treasure as thine honor, 
A jewel worth whole hecatombs of lives. 
Begone ! redeem thine honor ! Back to Marion, 
Or Baradas, or Orleans ; track the robber ; 
Regain the packet — or crawl on to age, 
Age and gray hairs like mine, and know thou hast lost 
That which had made thee great, and saved thy country ! 
See me not till thou 'st bought the right to seek me. 
Away ! nay, cheer thee ! thou hast not failed yet ; 
There 's no such word as fail. 

Richelieu. The poor youth ! 
An elder had asked life ! I love the young ! 
For as great men live not in their own time, 
But the next race — so in the young my soul 
Makes many Richelieus. He '11 win it yet. 

Francois ? He 's gone ! So, so ! my murder ! Marion's warning. 
This bravo's threat ! O for the morrow's dawn ! 
I '11 set my spies to work ; I '11 make all space, 
As does the sun, an universal eye. 
Huguet shall track — Joseph confess — ha ! ha ! — 
Strange while I laughed, I shuddered — and ev'n now 
Through the chill air the beating of my heart 



SPEECH RHYTHM 191 

Sounds like the deathwatch by a sick man's pillow ; 

If Huguet could deceive me — hoofs without — 

The gates unclose — steps near and nearer ! — Bulwer 



63. Garden Fancies 

THE FLOWER'S NAME 

Here 's the garden she walked across, 

Arm in my arm, such a short while since : 
Hark, now I push its wicket, the moss 

Hinders the hinges and makes them wince ! 
She must have reached this shrub ere she turned, 

As back with that murmur the wicket swung ; 
For she laid the poor snail, my chance foot spurned, 

To feed and forget it the leaves among. 

Down this side of the gravel-walk 

She went while her robe's edge brushed the box : 
And here she paused in her gracious talk 

To point me a moth on the milk-white phlox. 
Roses, ranged in valiant row, 

I will never think that she passed you by ! 
She loves you, noble roses, I know ; 

But yonder, see, where the rock-plants lie ! 

This flower she stopped at, finger on lip, 

Stooped over, in doubt, as settling its claim: 
Till she gave me, with pride to make no slip, 

Its soft meandering Spanish name : 
What a name ! Was it love or praise ? 

Speech half-asleep or song half -awake ? 
I must learn Spanish, one of these days, 

Only for that slow sweet name's sake. 

Roses, if I live and do well, 

I may bring her, one of these days, 

To fix you fast with as fine a spell. 
Fit you each with his Spanish phrase ; 



192 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

But do not detain me now ; for she lingers 
There, like sunshine over the ground, 

And ever I see her soft white fingers 
Searching after the bud she found. 

Flower, you Spaniard, look that you grow not, 

Stay as you are and be loved forever ! 
But, if I kiss you 't is that you blow not, 

Mind, the shut pink mouth opens never ! 
For while it pouts, her fingers wrestle, 

Twinkling the audacious leaves between, 
Till round they turn and down they nestle — 

Is not the dear mark still to be seen ? 

Where I find her not, beauties vanish ; 

Whither I follow her, beauties flee ; 
Is there no method to tell her in Spanish 

June 's twice June since she breathed it with me ? 
Come, bud, show me the least of her traces, 

Treasure my lady's lightest footfall ! 
— Ah, you may flout and turn up your faces — 

Roses, you are not so fair after all ! — Browning 



64. His Majesty the Baby 

Until the bus stopped and the old gentleman entered we had been 
a contented and genial company, traveling from a suburb into the 
city in high good fellowship, and our absolute monarch was Baby. 
His mother was evidently the wife of a well-doing artisan, a wise- 
looking, capable, bonnie young woman, and Baby was not a marvel of 
attire, nor could he be called beautiful. 

In a bus where there is nothing to' do for forty minutes except 
stare into one another's faces, a baby has the great chance of his life, 
and this baby was made to seize it. 

His first conquest was easy and might have been discounted, for 
against such an onset there was no power of resistance in the elderly 
woman opposite, — one of the lower middles, fearfully stout, and of 
course a grandmother. He simply looked at her — if he smiled, that 



SPEECH RHYTHM 1 93 

was thrown in — for, without her knowledge, her arms had begun 
to shape themselves for his reception — so often had children lain on 
that ample resting place. ft Bless ? is little 7 eart ; it do me good to 
see 'im." 

The next passenger, just above Grannie, is a lady, young and 
pretty, and a mother. Of course ; did you not see her look Baby over, 
as an expert at her sharpest ? The mother is conscious of inspection 
and adjusts a ribbon his majesty had tossed aside, and then she 
meekly awaited approval. For a moment we were anxious, but that 
was our foolishness, for in half a minute the lady's face relaxed and 
she passed Baby. She leaned forward and asked questions, and we 
overheard scraps of technical detail: "My first — fourteen months 
— six teeth — always well." One was a lady, the other a working- 
woman ; they had not met before ; they were not likely to meet again ; 
but they had forgotten strangeness and differences in the common 
bonds of motherhood. 

Baby had wearied of inaction and had begun another campaign 
and my heart sank, for this time he courted defeat. On the other 
side of Grannie and within Baby's sphere of influence was a man 
about whose profession there could be little doubt, even if he had 
not had a bag on his knee and were not reading from a parchment 
document. After a long and serious consideration of the lawyer's 
clean-cut, clean-shaven, bloodless face, Baby leaned forward and 
tapped gently on the deed, and then, when the keen face looked up 
in quick inquiry. Baby replied with a smile of roguish intelligence, as 
if to say : :; By the way. that parchment would make an excellent 
drum ; do you mind me — A tune has just come into my head." The 
lawyer, of course, drew away the deed and frowned at the insolence 
of the thing. No, he did not. — there is a soul in lawyers if you know 
how to find it. — he smiled. Well, it was not a first-rate smile, but it 
was genuine, and the next time he did it better, and afterward it spread 
all over his face and lighted up his eyes. He had never been exposed 
to such genial, irresistible ways before, and so he held the drum, 
and Babv played a variation on rt Rule. Britannia." with much spirit, 
while Grannie appealed for applause : ?t If 'e don't play as well as the 
band in 'vde Park of a Sunday." 

After a well-deserved rest of forty seconds, during which we 
wagged our heads in wonder. Baby turned his head and gave his 



194 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

attention to his right-hand neighbor, and, for the balance of the 
minute, examined her with compassion, — an old maid without ques- 
tion, with her disposition written on the thin lips and hard gray eyes. 
None of us would care to trifle with her. Will he dare ? If he has 
not ! That was his chief stroke of genius, and it deserved success, 
when, with an expression of unaffected pity, he put out his soft, 
dimpled hand and gently stroked her cheek, acting as if to say : 
" Poor thing, all 'lone, 'lone ! I'm so solly, solly, solly, so velly, 
velly, velly solly." Did I say that her eyes were tender and true 
enough to win a man's heart and keep it, and that her lips spoke 
of patience and gentleness? If I did not, I repair my neglect. She 
must have been a beautiful woman in her youth — no, no, to-day, 
just when she inclines her head and Baby strokes her cheek again 
and cooes, " Pretty, pretty, pretty, and so velly, velly, velly good." 
Was that not a lovely flush on her cheek ? — Oh, the fool of a man 
that might have had that love ! 

Two passengers on Baby's left had endured these escapades with 
patient and suffering dignity. When a boy is profoundly conscious 
that he is — well, a man, and yet a blind and unfeeling world con- 
spires to treat him as — well — a child — he must protect himself 
and assert his position. Which he does, to the delight of everybody 
with any sense of humor, by refusing to be kissed by his mother 
or sisters in public, by severely checking any natural tendencies to 
enthusiasm about anything except sport, by allowing it to be under- 
stood that he has exhausted the last remaining pleasure and is fairly 
burned out. 

Dear boy, and all the time ready to run a mile to see a cavalry 
regiment drill and tormented by a secret hankering after the zoological 
gardens. These had been nice little chaps two years ago and would 
be manly fellows two years hence. Meanwhile, they were provoking 
and required punishment or regeneration. Baby was to them a " kid," 
to be treated with contempt, and when in a paroxysm of delight over 
the folly of a law paper he had tilted one of the young men's hats, 
that blase ancient replaced it with a bored and weary air. How Baby 
had taken in the situation I cannot guess, but he had his mind on 
the lads, and suddenly, while they were sustaining an elaborate con- 
cern, he flung himself back and crowed — yes, joyfully crowed — 
with rosy, jocund countenance in the whites of the eyes of the two 



SPEECH RHYTHM 195 

solemnities. One raised his eyebrows, and the other looked at the roof 
in despair, but I had hopes, for who could resist this bubbling, chort- 
ling mirth ? One laughs a glad, boyish chuckle, and the other tickles 
Baby just at the right spot below the chin, — has a baby at home 
after all and loves it, — declaring aloud that he is a "jolly little 
beggar." Those boys are all right. There is a sound heart below 
their little affectations, and they are going to be men. 

We had one vacant place left, and that was how he intruded on 
our peace, but let me make one excuse for him. It is aggravating to 
stand on the edge of the pavement and wave your umbrella ostenta- 
tiously to a bus which passes you and draws up fifteen yards ahead, 
to make your dangerous way along a slippery street with horses bent 
upon your life, to be ordered to hurry up by the impatient conductor 
and ignominiously hauled on to a moving bus. For an elderly gen- 
tleman of military appearance and short temper it was not soothing 
and he might have been excused a word or two, but he distinctly 
exceeded. He insisted in language of great directness and simplicity 
that the conductor had seen him all the time ; that if he did n't he 
ought to have been looking; that he (the colonel) was not a fox 
terrier, to run after a bus in the mud ; that the conductor was an 
impertinent scoundrel and that he would have him dismissed, with 
other things and words unworthy of even a retired army officer. 
The sympathy of the bus did not go out to him, and when he forced 
himself in between the lawyer and Grannie, and, leaning forward 
with his hands on his cane, glared at us impartially, relations were 
strained. 

A cut on his cheek and a bristly white mustache half hiding, half 
concealing, a cruel mouth, did not commend the new passenger to a 
peaceable company. Baby regarded the old man with sad attention, 
and at last he indicated that his fancy is to examine the silver head 
of the colonel's cane, The colonel, after two moments' hesitation, 
removes his hands and gives full liberty. On second thoughts, he 
must have got that cut in some stiff fight. Wonder whether he is a 
V. C. Baby moves the cane back and forward to a march of his own 
devising, the colonel actively assisting. Now that I see it in a proper 
light his mustache is soft and sets off the face excellently. Had it 
not been the cut puckering the corner of the upper lip, that would 
have been a very sweet mouth for a man, or even for a woman. 



196 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Baby is not lifted above all human weaknesses — preserve us from 
perfect people — and he indicates a desire to taste as well as handle 
that silver head. The colonel is quite agreeable — the most good- 
natured man you could meet in a day's journey — but Baby's guardian 
objects, and history warns us of the dangers which beset a collision 
between an absolute monarch and his faithful commons. We were 
all concerned, but the crisis is safe in the colonel's hands. He thrusts 
his hand within the tightly buttoned frock coat and produces a gold 
hunting watch — crested, did you notice — and — yes, just what every 
father has done for his baby since watches were invented — he blew ; 
the lid flew open. Baby blew, and the lid flew open faster and 
farther. " Reminds me of my boy at that age — killed on frontier 
last year." Is much ashamed of this confidence, and we all look 
unconscious. What a fine, simple old fellow he is. 

" Saved up, has he," the colonel is speaking to the mother, " to 
give Baby and you a week at Ramsgate ? He 's the right sort, your 
husband. It 's for Baby, not for you, to get him some folderol, you 
know. He 's done a lot of good to a crusty old chap." And he passes 
something from his pocket into the mother's hand. 

The conductor has taken in the scene with huge delight and closes 
it at just the right point. " Your club, general ; just wait till the bus 
stops. Can you get near the curb, Bill ? Now, that 's right ; take 
care, sir, plenty of time." The colonel was standing on the broad 
step of the Veterans', smiling and waving his hand ; the bus waved 
back, the conductor touched his cap, and Baby danced for sheer joy, 
since there is no victory like love. — Ian Maclaren 

65. Gareth and Lynette 

The last tall son of Lot and Bellicent, 

And tallest, Gareth, in a shower of spring 

Stared at the spate. 1 A slender-shafted pine 

Lost footing, fell, and so was whirl'd away. 

tf How he went down," said Gareth, "as a false knight 

Or evil king before my lance, if lance 

Were mine to use. O senseless cataract, 

Bearing all down in thy precipitancy — 

1 River flood. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 197 

And yet thou art swollen with cold snows 
And mine is living blood : thou dost His will, 
The Maker's, and not knowest, and I that know, 
Have strength and wit, in my good mother's hall 
Linger with vacillating obedience, 
Prison'd, and kept and coax'd and whistled to — 
Since the good mother holds me still a child ! 
Heaven yield 1 her for it, but in me put force 
To weary her ears with one continuous prayer, 
Until she let me fly discaged to sweep 
Down upon all things base, and dash them dead, 
A knight of Arthur, working out his will." 

And Gareth went, and hovering round her chair 
Ask'd, " Mother, tho' ye count me still the child, 
Sweet mother, do ye love me, let me go." 

To whom the mother said : 
" Stay therefore thou ; red berries charm the bird. 
Stay, my best son ! ye are yet more boy than man." 

Then Gareth : " How can ye keep me tether'd ! Shame ! 

Man am I grown, a man's work must I do. 

Follow the deer? follow the Christ, the King, 

Live pure, speak true, right wrong, follow the King." 

And Gareth answer d further : " I will walk thro' fire, 
Mother, to gain it — your full leave to go." 

" Who walks thro' fire will hardly heed the smoke. 
Ay, go then, an ye must : only one proof 
Of thine obedience and thy love to me." 

ft A hard one, or a hundred, so I go ! " 

ft Prince, thou shalt go disguised to Arthur's hall, 
And hire thyself to serve for meats and drinks. 
Nor shalt thou tell thy name to any one. 
And thou shalt serve a twelvemonth and a day." 

1 Reward. 



198 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Silent awhile was Gareth, then replied : 
fr The thrall in person may be free in soul, 
And I shall see the jousts. Thy son am I, 
And, since thou art my mother, must obey. 
I therefore yield me freely to thy will." 

So Gareth all for glory underwent 
The sooty yoke of kitchen-vassalage ; 
Ate with young lads his portion by the door, 
And couch'd at night with grimy kitchen-knaves. 
And Lancelot ever spake him pleasantly, 
But Kay the seneschal, who loved him not. 
Would hustle and harry him, and labour him 
Beyond his comrade of the hearth, and set 
To turn the broach, 1 draw water, or hew wood, 
Or grosser tasks ; and Gareth bow'd himself 
With all obedience to the King, and wrought 
All kind of service with a noble ease 
That graced the lowliest act in doing it. 

So for a month he wrought among the thralls ; 
But in the weeks that follow'd, the good Queen, 
Repentant of the word she made him swear, 
And saddening in her childless castle, sent 
Arms for her son, and loosed him from his vow. 
Shame never made girl redder than Gareth joy. 
He laugh'd ; he sprang ; and then he sought 
The King alone, and found and told him all. 

" Make me thy knight — in secret ! let my name 
Be hidd'n, and give me the first quest, I spring 
Like flame from ashes." 

" Make thee my knight in secret ? yea, but he. 
Our noblest brother, and our truest man, 
And one with me in all, he needs must know." 

1 Spit. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 199 

" Let Lancelot know, my King, let Lancelot know, 
Thy noblest and thy truest ! " 

So with a kindly hand on Gareth's arm 
Smiled the great King, and half-unwillingly 
Loving his lusty youthhood yielded to him. 

Then that same day there past into the hall 
A damsel of high lineage, and a brow 
May-blossom, and a cheek of apple-blossom : 
" O King, for thou hast driven the foe without, 
See to the foe within. Why sit ye there ? 
Rest would I not, Sir King, an I were king. 
Till ev'n the lonest hold were all as free 
From cursed bloodshed as thine altar-cloth." 

tr Comfort thyself," said Arthur, " I nor mine 
Rest : so my knighthood keep the vows they swore, 
The wastest moorland of our realm shall be 
Safe, damsel, as the centre of this hall. 
What is thy name ? thy need ? " 

" Lynette, my name ; noble ; my need, a knight 
To combat for my sister, Lyonors, 
A lady of high lineage, of great lands, 
And comely, yea, and comelier than myself. 
She lives in Castle Perilous : a river 
Runs in three loops about her living-place ; 
And o'er it are three passings, and three knights 
Defend the passings, brethren, and a fourth, 
And of that four the mightiest, holds her stayed 
In her own castle, and so besieges her 
To break her will, and make her wed with him. 
They be of foolish fashion, O Sir King, 

and three of these 
Proud in their fantasy call themselves the Day, 
Morning-Star, and Noon-Sun, and Evening-Star ; 
The fourth, who always rideth arm'd in black, 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

He names himself the Night and oftener Death. 
And all these four be fools, but mighty men, 
And therefore am I come for Lancelot." 

Hereat Sir Gareth call'd from where he rose, 

"A boon, Sir King — this quest! " then — for he mark'd 

Kay near him groaning like a wounded bull — 

" Yea, King, thou knowest thy kitchen-knave am I, 

And mighty thro' thy meats and drinks am I, 

And I can topple over a hundred such. 

Thy promise, King," and Arthur glancing at him, 

Brought down a momentary brow. " Rough, sudden, 

And pardonable, worthy to be knight — 

Go therefore," and all hearers were amazed. 

But on the damsel's forehead shame, pride, wrath 
Slew the May-white : she lifted either arm, 
" Fie on thee, King ! I ask'd for thy chief knight, 
And thou hast given me but a kitchen-knave." 
Then ere a man in hall could stay her, turn'd, 
Fled down the lane of access to the King, 
Took horse, descended the slope street, and past 
The weird white gate, and paused without, beside 
The field of tourney, murmuring ct Kitchen-knave ! " 

Then Gareth donn'd the helm, and took the shield 
And mounted horse and graspt a spear, of grain 
Storm-strengthen'd on a windy site, and tipt 
With trenchant steel. Around him slowly prest 
The people, who threw up their caps and cried, 
" God bless the King and all his fellowship ! " 
And on thro' lanes of shouting Gareth rode 
Down the slope street, and past without the gate. 
But by the field of tourney lingering yet 
Mutter'd the damsel, tr O fie upon him ! — 
His kitchen-knave." 

To whom Sir Gareth drew, 
Shining in arms. " Damsel, the quest is mine. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 

Lead, and I follow. " But she cried: r ' Hence! 
Avoid, thou smellest all of kitchen-grease. 
And look who comes behind," for there was Kay. 
ct Knowest thou not me ? thy master ? I am Kay. 
We lack thee by the hearth."' 

And Gareth to him, 
" Master no more ! too well I know thee, ay — 
The most ungentle knight in Arthur's hall." 
ct Have at thee then." said Kay : they shock'd, and Kay 
Fell shoulder-slipt, and Gareth cried again, 
" Lead, and I follow," and fast away she fled. 

So till the noon that followed rode on the two, 
Reviler and reviled ; and then Lynette : 
"I fly no more : I allow thee for an hour. 
For hard by here is one will overthrow 
And slay thee ; then will I to court again. 
And shame the King for only yielding me 
My champion from the ashes of his hearth." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd courteously : 
" Say thou thy say, and I will do my deed."' 

Then to the shore of one of those long loops 

YVherethro' the serpent river coil'd, they came. 

And therebefore the lawless warrior paced 

Unarm'd, and calling, " Damsel, is this he, 

The champion thou hast brought from Arthur's hall ? 

For whom we let thee pass." " Nay, nay," she said, 

" Sir Morning-Star. The King in utter scorn 

Of thee and thy much folly hath sent thee here 

His kitchen-knave : and look thou to thyself : 

See that he fall not on thee suddenly, 

And slay thee unarm'd ; he is not knight but knave." 

Then she that watch'd him : " Wherefore stare ye so ? 
Thou shakest in thy fear : there yet is time : 
Flee down the valley before he get to horse. 



202 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Who will cry shame? Thou art not knight but knave.' 
Said Gareth : " Damsel, whether knave or knight, 
Fair words were best for him who rights for thee ; 
But truly foul are better, for they send 
That strength of anger thro' mine arms, I know 
That I shall overthrow him." 

And he that bore 
The star, when mounted, cried from o'er the bridge : 
tf A kitchen-knave, and sent in scorn of me ! 
Such fight not I, but answer scorn with scorn. 
Avoid : for it beseemeth not a knave 
To ride with such a lady." 

" Dog, thou liest ! 
I spring from loftier lineage than thine own." 
He spake ; and all at fiery speed the two 
Shock'd on the central bridge, and each at once 
Fell, as if dead ; but quickly rose and drew, 
And Gareth lash'd so fiercely with his brand 
He drave his enemy backward down the bridge, 
The damsel crying, "Well-stricken, kitchen-knave! " 
Till Gareth's shield was cloven ; but one stroke 
Laid him that clove it grovelling on the ground. 
" Thy shield is mine — farewell ; and damsel, thou, 
Lead, and I follow." 

And fast away she fled ; 
Then when he came upon her, spake : " Methought, 
Knave, when I watch'd thee striking on the bridge, 
The savour of thy kitchen came upon me 
A little faintlier : but the wind hath chang'd : 
I scent it twenty-fold." And then she sang : 
" O morning star that smilest in the blue, 
O star, my morning dream hath proven true ; 
Smile sweetly, thou! my love hath smil'd on me." 

To whom Sir Gareth answer'd laughingly, 

" The knave that doth thee service as full knight 



SPEECH RHYTHM 203 

Is all as good, meseems, as any knight 
Toward thy sister's freeing." 

" Ay, ay, but thou shalt meet thy match." 

So when they touch'd the second river-loop, 
Huge on a high red horse, and all in mail 
Burnish'd to blinding, shone the Noonday-Sun. 
Him Gareth met mid-stream ; no room was there 
For lance or tourney-skill ; four strokes they struck 
With sword, and these were mighty ; the new knight 
Had fear he might be shamed ; but as the Sun 
Heaved up a ponderous arm to strike the fifth, 
The hoof of his horse slipt in the stream, the stream 
Descended, and the Sun was wash'd away. 

Then Gareth laid his lance athwart the ford : 

" Lead, and I follow." Quietly she led. 

" Hath not the good wind, damsel, changed again ? " 

" Nay, not a point ; nor art thou victor here. 

There lies a ridge of slate across the ford ; 

His horse thereon stumbled " ; and again she sang : 

" ' O birds that warble in the morning sky, 

O birds that warble as the day goes by, 

Sing sweetly : twice my love hath smiled on me.' 

There stands the third fool of their allegory." 

For there beyond a bridge of treble bow, 
That named himself the Star of Evening stood. 

And Gareth : " Wherefore waits the madman there 
Naked in open dayshine? " " Nay," she cried, 
" Not naked, only wrapt in harden'd skins." 

Then the third brother shouted o'er the bridge, 
" O brother-star, why shine ye here so low ? 
Thy ward is higher up : but have ye slain 
The damsel's champion ? " and the damsel cried : 



204 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

rt No star of thine, but shot from Arthur's heaven 
With all disaster unto thine and thee ! " 

Then that other blew 
A hard and deadly note upon the horn 
And the two madly hurl'd together on the bridge ; 
And Gareth overthrew him ; . . . 
But up like fire he started : and as oft 
As Gareth brought him grovelling on his knees, 
So many a time he vaulted up again ; 
Till Gareth panted hard, and his great heart, 
Foredooming all his trouble was in vain, 
Labour'd within him, for he seem'd as one 
That all in later, sadder age begins 
To war against ill uses of a life, 
But these from all his life arise, and cry, 
ft Thou hast made us lords, and canst not put us down ! " 
He half despairs ; so Gareth seem'd to strike 
Vainly, the damsel clamouring all the while, 
" Well done, knave-knight, well stricken, O good knight-knave - 
Shame me not, shame me not. I have prophesied — 
Strike, thou art worthy of the Table Round — 
Strike — strike — the wind will never change again." 

And Gareth hearing ever stronglier smote, 
But lash'd in vain against the harden'd skin, 
. . . till at length Sir Gareth's brand 
Clash'd his, and brake it utterly to the hilt. 
" I have thee now "; but forth that other sprang, 
And, all unknightlike, writhed his wiry arms 
Around him, till he felt, despite his mail, 
Strangled, but straining ever his uttermost 
Cast, and so hurl'd him headlong o'er the bridge 
Down to the river, sink or swim, and cried, 
t! Lead, and I follow." 

But the damsel said : 
" I lead no longer ; ride thou at my side ; 
Thou art the kingliest of all kitchen-knaves. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 205 

tc ! O trefoil, sparkling on the rainy plain, 

O rainbow with three colours after rain, 

Shine sweetly: thrice my love hath smiled on me.' 

Sir, — and, good faith, I fain had added — Knight, 

But that I heard thee call thyself a knave, — 

Shamed am I that I so rebuked, reviled, 

Missaid thee ; noble I am ; and thought the King 

Scorn'd me and mine ; and now thy pardon, friend." 

" Damsel," he said, " you be not all to blame, 

Saving that you mistrusted our good King 

Would handle scorn, or yield you, asking, one 

Not fit to cope your quest. Good sooth ! I hold 

He scarce is knight, who lets 

His heart be stirr'd with any foolish heat 

At any damsel's waywardness. 

Shamed ? Care not ! thy foul sayings fought for me : 

And seeing now thy words are fair, methinks 

There rides no knight, not Lancelot, his great self, 

Hath force to quell me." . . . 

Then for a space, and under cloud that grew 
To thunder-gloom palling all light, they rode 
In converse till she made her palfry halt, 
Lifted an arm, and softly whisperd, " There." 
And then the two were silent seeing, pitch'd 
Beside the Castle Perilous on flat field. 
A huge pavilion like a mountain peak, 
Black, with black banner, and a long black horn 
Beside it hanging : which Sir Gareth graspt, 
And so before Lynette could hinder him. 
Sent all his heart and breath thro* all the horn. 

In the half-light — thro' the dim dawn — advanced 
The monster, and then paused, and spake no word. 

But Gareth spake and all indignantly : 

" Fool, for thou hast, men sav, the strength of ten, 



2o6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Canst thou not trust the limbs thy God hath given, 
But must, to make the terror of thee more, 
Trick thyself out in ghastly imageries ? " 
. . . But he spake no word ; 
Which set the horror higher ; a maiden swoon'd ; 
The Lady Lyonors wrung her hands and wept, 
As doom'd to be the bride of Night and Death ; 
Sir Gareth's head prickled beneath his helm. 

At once Sir Gareth's charger fiercely neigh'd, 

And Death's dark war-horse bounded forward with him. 

Then those that did not blink the terror saw 

That Death was cast to ground, and slowly rose. 

But with one stroke Sir Gareth split the skull. 

Half fell to right and half to left and lay. 

Then with a stronger buffet he clove the helm 

As throughly as the skull ; and out from this 

Issued the bright face of a blooming boy 

Fresh as a flower new-born, and crying, " Knight, 

Slay me not : my three brethren bade me do it, 

To make a horror all about the house, 

And stay the world from Lady Lyonors ; 

They never dream'd the passes would be past." 

Answer'd Sir Gareth graciously to one 

Not many a moon his younger, " My fair child, 

What madness made thee challenge a brave knight 

Of Arthur's hall ? " " Fair Sir, they bade me do it. 

They hate the King, and Lancelot, the King's friend ; 

They hoped to slay him somewhere on the stream, 

They never dream'd the passes could be past." 

Then sprang the happier day from underground ; 

And Lady Lyonors and her house, with dance 

And revel and song, made merry over Death, 

As being after all their foolish fears 

And horrors only proven a blooming boy. 

So large mirth lived, and Gareth won the quest. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 2QJ 

And he that told the tale in older times 
Says that Sir Gareth wedded Lyonors, 
But he that told it later says Lynette. 

Adapted from Tennyson in " Idylls of the King." 



66. A Royal Princess 

I, a princess, king-descended, decked with jewels, gilded, drest, 
Would rather be a peasant with her baby at her breast. 
For all I shine so like the sun, and am purple like the west. 

Two and two my guards behind, two and two before, 

Two and two on either hand, they guard me evermore ; 

Me, poor dove, that must not coo, — eagle, that must not soar. 

All my fountains cast up perfumes, all my gardens grow 
Scented woods and foreign spices, with all flowers in blow 
That are costly, out of season as the seasons go. 

All my walls are lost in mirrors, whereupon I trace 
Self to right hand, self to left hand, self in every place, 
Self-same solitary figure, self-same seeking face. 

Then I have an ivory chair high to sit upon, 

Almost like my father's chair, which is an ivory throne ; 

There I sit uplift and upright, there I sit alone. 

Alone by day, alone by night, alone days without end ; 

My father and mother give me treasures, search and spend — 

O my father ! O my mother ! have you ne'er a friend ? 

As I am a lofty princess, so my father is 

A lofty king, accomplished in all kingly subtilties, 

Holding in his strong right hand world-kingdoms' balances. 

He has quarrelled with his neighbors, he has scourged his foes ; 
Vassal counts and princes follow where his pennon goes. 
Long-descended valiant lords whom the vulture knows, 



208 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

On whose track the vulture swoops, when they ride in state 
To break the strength of armies and topple down the great : 
Each of these my courteous servant, none of these my mate. 

My father counting up his strength sets down with equal pen 
So many head of cattle, head of horses, head of men ; 
These for slaughter, these for labor, with the how and when. 

Some to work on roads ; some to man his ships ; 

Some to smart in mines beneath sharp overseers' whips ; 

Some to trap fur-beasts in lands where utmost winter nips. 

Once it came into my heart and whelmed me like a flood, 

That these too are men and women, human flesh and blood ; 

Men with hearts and men with souls, though trodden down like mud. 

Our feasting was not glad that night, our music was not gay ; 
On my mother's graceful head I marked a thread of gray ; 
My father frowning at the fare seemed every dish to weigh. 

I sat beside them sole princess in my exalted place, 
My ladies and gentlemen stood by me on the dais : 
A mirror showed me I looked old and haggard in the face ; 

It showed me that my ladies all are fair to gaze upon ; 

Plump, plenteous-haired, to every one love's secret lore is known ; 

They laugh by day, they sleep by night ; ah me, what is a throne ? 

The singing men and women sang that night as usual, 

The dancers danced in pairs and sets, but the music had a fall, 

A melancholy windy fall as at a funeral. 

Amid the toss of torches to my chamber back we swept ; 

My ladies loosed my golden chain ; meantime I could have wept 

To think of some in galling chains whether they walked or slept. 

I took my bath of scented milk, delicately waited on, 

They burning sweet things for my delight, cedar and cinnamon; 

They lit my shaded silver lamp and left me there alone. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 209 

A day went by, a week went by. One day I heard it said, 
" Men are clamoring, women, children, clamoring to be fed ; 
Men like famished dogs are howling in the streets for bread." 

So two whispered by my door, not thinking I could hear, 

Vulgar, naked truth, ungarnished for a royal ear ; 

Fit for cooping in the background, not to stalk so near. 

But I strained my utmost sense to catch this truth, and mark : 

" There are families out grazing like cattle in the park." 

" A pair of peasants must be saved even if we build an ark." 

A merry jest, a merry laugh, each strolled upon his way ; 
One was my page, a lad I reared and bore with day by day ; 
One was my youngest maid, as sweet and white as cream in May. 

Other footsteps followed with a weightier tramp ; 

Voices said, " Picked soldiers have been summoned from the camp 

To quell these base-born ruffians who make free to howl and stamp." 

" Howl and stamp ? " one answered. " They made free to hurl a stone 

At the minister's state coach, well aimed and stoutly thrown." 

" There 's work, then, for the soldiers, for this rank crop must be 



" One I saw a poor old fool with ashes on his head, 
Whimpering because a girl had snatched his crust of bread : 
Then he dropped ; when some one raised him, it turned out he was 
dead/' 

" After us the deluge," was retorted with a laugh : 

" If bread 's the staff of life, they must walk without a staff." 

" While I 've a loaf they 're welcome to my blessing and the chaff." 

These passed. The king : stand up. Said my father with a smile, 
" Daughter mine, your mother comes to sit with you awhile ; 
She 's sad to day, and who but you her sadness can beguile ? " 

He too left me. Shall I touch my harp now while I wait 
(I hear them doubling guard below before our palace gate), 
Or shall I work the last gold stitch into my veil of state : 



2IO VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Or shall my women stand and read 3ome unimpassioned scene, 
There 's music of a lulling sort in words that pause between ; 
Or shall they merely fan me while I wait here for the queen ? 

Again I caught my father's voice in sharp word of command : 
" Charge ! " a clash of steel : ct Charge again, the rebels stand. 
Smite and spare not, hand to hand ; smite and spare not, hand to 
hand." 

There swelled a tumult at the gate, high voices waxing higher ; 
A flash of red reflected light lit the cathedral spire ; 
I heard a cry for faggots, then I heard a yell for fire. 

" Sit and roast there with your meat, sit and bake there with your 

bread, 
You who sat to see us starve," one shrieking woman said : 
rf Sit on your throne and roast with the crown upon your head." 

Nay, this thing will I do, while my mother tarrieth, 

I will take my fine spun gold, but not to sew therewith, 

I will take my gold and gems, and rainbow fan and wreath ; 

With a ransom in my lap, a king's ransom in my hand, 

I will go down to this people, will stand face to face, will stand 

Where they curse the king, queen, and princess of this cursed land. 

They shall take all to buy them bread, take all I have to give; 
I, if I perish, perish ; they to-day shall eat and live ; 
I, if I perish, perish : that 's the goal I half conceive : 

Once to speak before the world, rend bare my heart and show 
The lesson I have learned, which is death, is life, to know. 
I, if I perish, perish; in the name of God I go. — Rossetti 



67. A Scene from The Shaughraun 

Note. This scene introduces the following characters : Conn, the 
Shaughraun, a reckless, devil-may-care, true-hearted young vagabond, 
who is continually in a scrape from his desire to help a friend and his 
love for fun ; his mother, Mrs. O'Kelley ; his sweetheart, Moya Dolan, 
niece of the parish priest. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 211 

It is evening. Moya is alone in the kitchen. She has just put the 
kettle on the fire when Mrs. O'Kelley, Conn's mother, enters. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. Is it yourself, Moya? I 've come to see if that 
vagabond of mine has been round this way. 

Moya. Why should he be here, Mrs. O'Kelley? Hasn't he a 
home of his own ? 

Mrs. O'Kelley. The Shebeen is his home when he is not in jail. 
His father died o' drink, and Conn will go the same way. 

Moya. I thought your husband was drowned at sea. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. And bless him, so he was. 

Moya. Well, that 's a quare way o' dying o' drink. 

Mrs. O 'Kelley. The best of men he was, when he was sober — 
a betther never dhrawed the breath o' life. 

Moya. But you say he never was sober. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. Niver ! An' Conn takes afther him! 

Moya. Mother, I 'm afeared I shall take afther Conn. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. Heaven forbid, and purtect you agin him ! You a 
good dacint gurl, and desarve the best of husbands. 

Moya. Them 's the only ones that gets the worst. More betoken 
yoursilf, Mrs. O'Kelley. 

Mrs. O'Kelley. Conn niver did an honest day's work in his life — 
but dhrinkin', an' fishin', an' shootin', an' sportin', and love-makin'. 

Moya. Sure, that 's how the quality pass their lives. 

Mrs. O 'Kelley. That 's it. A poor man that sports the sowl of a 
gintleman is called a blackguard. 

(At this monie?it Con?i appears at the door) 

Conn {at left). Some one is talking about me ! Ah, Moya, darlin", 
come here. (Business as if he reaches out his hands to Moya as he 
comes forward to meet her, and passes her over to his left so that he 
seems to stand in center between Moya on left and Mrs. O'Kelley on 
right.) W T as the old Mother thryin' to make little o' me ? Don't you 
belave a word that comes out o' her ! She 's jealous o' me (laugh- 
ing as he shakes his finger at his mother). Yes, ye are ! You 're 
chokin' wid it this very minute ! Oh, Moya, darlin', she 's jealous to 
see my two arms about ye. But she 's proud o' me. Oh, she 's proud 
o' me as an old hin that 's got a duck for a chicken. Howld your 
whist now, Mother ! Wipe your mouth and give me a kiss. 



212 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Mrs. CKelley. Oh, Conn, what have you been afther? The polis 
have been in the cabin to-day about ye. They say you stole Squire 
Foley's horse. 

Conn. Stole his horse ! Sure the baste is safe and sound in his 
paddock this minute. 

Mrs. CKelley. But he says you stole it for the day to go 
huntin'. 

Conn. Well, here 's a purty thing, for a horse to run away with 
a man's character like this ! Oh, Wurra ! may I niver die in sin, but 
this was the way of it. I was standing by owld Foley's gate, whin I 
heard the cry of the hounds coming across the tail of the bog, an' 
there they wore, my dear, spread out like the tail of a paycock, an' 
the finest dog fox ye ever seen a sailin' ahead of- thim up the boreen, 
and right across the churchyard. It was enough to raise the inhab- 
itints out of the ground ! Well, as I looked, who should come and 
put his head over the gate besoide me but the Squire's brown mare, 
small blame to her. Divil a word I said to her, nor she to me, for 
the hounds had lost their scent, we knew by their yelp and whine as 
they hunted among the gravestones. When, whist ! the fox went 
by us. I leapt upon the gate, an' gave a shriek of view-hallo to the 
whip ; in a minute the pack caught the scent again, an' the whole 
field came roaring past. 

The mare lost her head entoirely and tore at the gate. " Stop," 
says I, "ye divil ! " an' I slipt a taste of a rope over her head an' into 
her mouth. Now mind the cunnin' of the baste ; she was quiet in 
a minute. "Come home, now," ses I, " aisy ! " an' I threw my leg 
across her. 

Be jabbers ! No sooner was I on her back than — whoo ! Holy 
Rocket ! she was over the gate, an' tearin' afther the hounds like 
mad. " Yoicks ! " ses I ! " Come back you thafe of the world ! where 
you takin' me through the huntin' field ? " She landed me by the soide 
of the masther of the hounds, Squire Foley himself. 

He turned the color of his leather breeches. " Mother o' Moses ! " 
ses he. "Is that Conn, the Shaughraun, on my brown mare ? " 

" Bad luck to me ! " ses I. "It 's no one else ! " 

"You sthole my horse," ses the Squire. 

"That 's a lie ! " ses I ; " for it was your horse sthole me ! " 

Moya {laughing). And what did he say to that, Conn ? 



SPEECH RHYTHM 21 3 

Co?in. I couldn't stop to hear, Moya, for just then we took a 
stone wall together an 1 I left him behind in the ditch. 
Mrs. O^Kelley. You '11 get a month in jail for this. 
Conn. It was worth it. — Boucicault 



68. Herve Riel 

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, 
Did the English fight the French, — woe to France ! 

And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, 

Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, 
Came crowding ship on ship to Saint Malo on the Ranee, 

With the English fleet in view. 

'T was the squadron that escaped, with the victor in full chase ; 
• First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville ; 
Close on him fled, great and small, 
Twenty-two good ships in all ; 
And they signalled to the place, 
" Help the winners of a race ! 

Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick — or, quicker still, 
Here 's the English can and will ! " 

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leapt on board ; 

" Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass ? " 
laughed they : 
'■' Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and scored. 
Shall the Formidable here with her twelve and eighty guns 
Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, 
Trust to enter where ? t is ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, 
And with flow at full beside ? 
Now, 't is slackest ebb of tide. 
Reach the mooring? Rather say, 
While rock stands or water runs, 
Not a ship will leave the bay ! " 

Then was called a council straight. 
Brief and bitter the debate : 



214 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" Here 's the English at our heels ; would you have them take in tow 
All that 's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, 
For a prize to Plymouth Sound ? 
Better run the ships aground ! " 

(Ended Damfreville his speech.) 
" Not a minute more to wait ! 

Let the Captains all and each 

Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach ! 
France must undergo her fate. 

" Give the word ! " But no such word 
Was ever spoke or heard ; 

For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these 
— A Captain? A Lieutenant? A Mate — first, second, third? 

No such man of mark, and meet 

With his betters to compete ! 

But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the fleet, 
A poor coasting-pilot he, Herve Riel the Croisickese. 

And ft What mockery or malice have we here? " cries Hervd Riel : 

?t Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools, or rogues? 
Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell 
On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell, 

'Twixt the offing here and Greve where the river disembogues ? 
Are you bought by English gold ? Is it love the lying 's for ? 
Morn and eve, night and day, 
Have I piloted your bay, 
Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor. 

Burn the fleet and ruin France? That were worse than fifty 
Hogues ! 
Sirs, they know I speak the truth ! Sirs, believe me there 's a 
way! 
Only let me lead the line, 

Have the biggest ship to steer, 
Get this Formidable clear, 
Make the others follow mine, 
And I lead them, most and least, by a passage I know well, 



SPEECH RHYTHM 215 

Right to Solidor past Greve, 

And there lay them safe and sound ; 
And if one ship misbehave, 
— Keel so much as grate the ground, 
Why, I 've nothing but my life, — here 's my head ! " cries Herve 
Riel. 



Not a minute more to wait. 

" Steer us in, then, small and great ! 

Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron ! " cried its chief. 
Captains, give the sailor place ! 

He is Admiral, in brief. 
Still the north-wind, by God's grace ! 
See the noble fellow's face 
As the big ship, with a bound, 
Clears the entry like a hound, 
Keeps the passage as its inch of way were the wide sea's profound ! 

See, safe through shoal and rock, 

How they follow in a flock, 
Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, 

Not a spar that comes to grief ! 
The peril, see, is past, 
All are harbored to the last, 

And just as Herve Riel hollas "Anchor ! " — sure as fate, 
Up the English come — too late ! 

So, the storm subsides to calm : 

They see the green trees wave 

On the heights o'erlooking Greve. 
Hearts that bled are stanched with balm. 
" Just our rapture to enhance, 

Let the English rake the bay, 
Gnash their teeth and glare askance 

As they cannonade away ! 
'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Ranee ! " 
Now hope succeeds despair on each Captain's countenance ! 
Out burst all with one accord, 



2l6 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

rt This is Paradise for Hell ! 
Let France, let France's King 
Thank the man that did the thing ! " 
What a shout, and all one word, 

" Herve Riel ! " 
As he stepped in front once more, 
Not a symptom of surprise 
In the frank blue Breton eyes, 
Just the same man as before. 

Then said Damfreville, ft My friend, 
I must speak out at the end. 

Though I find the speaking hard. 
Praise is deeper than the lips : 
You have saved the King his ships, 

You must name your own reward. 
'Faith, our sun was near eclipse ! 
Demand whate'er you will, 
France remains your debtor still. 
Ask to heart's content and have! or my name 's not Damfreville.' 

Then a beam of fun outbroke 
On the bearded mouth that spoke, 
As the honest heart laughed through 
Those frank eyes of Breton blue ; 
" Since I needs must say my say, 

Since on board the duty's done, 

And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run ? — 
Since 't is ask and have, I may — 

Since the others go ashore — 
Come ! A good whole holiday ! 

Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore ! " 

That he asked and that he got, — nothing more. 

Name and deed alike are lost : 
Not a pillar nor a post 

In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell ; 



SPEECH RHYTHM 217 

Not a head in white and black 

On a single fishing-smack, 

In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack 

All that France saved from the fight whence England bore the 
bell. 
Go to Paris : rank on rank 

Search the heroes flung pell-mell 
On the Louvre, face and flank ! 

You shall look long enough ere you come to Herve Riel. 
So, for better and for worse, 
Herve Riel, accept my verse ! 
In my verse, Hervd Riel, do thou once more 

Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife the Belle Aurore ! 

Browning 

69. Falstaff's Recruits 

Note. Sir John Falstaff has received a commission from the King 
to raise a company of soldiers to fight in the King's battles. After 
drafting a number of well-to-do farmers, who he knows will pay him 
snug sums of money rather than serve under him, he pockets their 
money and proceeds to fill his company from the riff-raff of the country 
through which he passes. 

The scene is a village green before Justice Shallow's house. The 
Justice has received word from Sir John that he is about to visit him, 
and desires him to call together a number of the villagers from which 
recruits may be selected. 

These villagers are now grouped upon the green, with Justice Shallow 
standing near. 

Bardolph, Sir John Falstaff's corporal, enters and addresses Justice 
Shallow. 

Ba,7'dolph. Good morrow, honest gentlemen : I beseech you, 
which is Justice Shallow ? 

Shallow. I am Robert Shallow, sir ; a poor esquire of this county, 
and one of the king's justices of the peace: what is your .good 
pleasure with me ? 

Bardolph. My captain, sir, commends him to you ; my captain, 
Sir John Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant 
leader. 



218 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Shallow. He greets me well, sir. I knew him a good backsword 
man. How doth the good knight ? . . . 

Enter Falstaff 

Look, here comes good Sir John. Give me your good hand, give 
me your worship's good hand : by my troth, you like well and bear 
your years very well : welcome, good Sir John. 

Falstaff. I am glad to see you well, good Master Robert Shallow. 
. . . Fie ! this is hot weather, gentlemen. Have you provided me 
here half a dozen sufficient men ? 

Shallow. Marry, have we, sir. Will you sit? 

Falstaff. Let me see them, I beseech you. 

Shallow. Where s the roll ? where 's the roll ? where 's the roll ? 
Let me see, let me see, let me see. So, so, so, so, so, so, so : yea, 
marry, sir : Ralph Mouldy ! Let them appear as I call ; let them do 
so, let them do so. Let me see ; where is Mouldy ? 

Mouldy. Here, an 't please you. 

Shallow. What think you, Sir John ? a good-limbed fellow ; 
young, strong, and of good friends. 

Falstaff. Is thy name Mouldy? 

Mouldy. Yea, an 't please you. 

Falstaff. 'T is the more time thou wert used. 

Shallow. Ha, ha, ha ! most excellent, i' faith ! things that are 
mouldy lack use : very singular good ! in faith, well said, Sir John, 
very well said. Shall I prick him, Sir John ? 

Falstaff. Yes, prick him. 

Mouldy. I was pricked well enough before, an you could have 
let me alone : my old dame will be undone now for one to do her 
husbandry and her drudgery : you need not to have pricked me ; 
there are other men fitter to go out than I. . . . 

Shallow. Peace, fellow, peace ; stand aside : know you where 
you are ? For the other, Sir John : let me see : Simon Shadow ! 

Falstaff. Yea, marry, let me have him to sit under. He 's like to 
be a cold soldier. 

Shallow. Where 's Shadow ? 

Shadow. Here, sir. 

Falstaff. Shadow, whose son art thou ? 

Shadow. My mother's son, sir. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 219 

Falstaff. Thy mother's son ! like enough, and thy father's 
shadow. . . . Shadow will serve for summer ; prick him. . . . 

Shallow. Thomas Wart ! 

Falstaff. Where 's he ? 

Wart. Here, sir. 

Falstaff. Is thy name Wart? 

JVart. Yea, sir. 

Falstaff. Thou art a very ragged wart. 

Shallow. Shall I prick him down, Sir John ? 

Falstaff. It were superfluous ; for his apparel is built upon his 
back and the whole frame stands upon pins : prick him no more. 

Shallow. Ha, ha, ha ! you can do it, sir ; you can do it : I com- 
mend you well. Francis Feeble ! 

Feeble. Here, sir. 

Falstaff. What trade art thou, Feeble ? 

Feeble. A woman's tailor, sir 

Falstaff. Well, good woman's tailor ! wilt thou make as many 
holes in an enemy's battle as thou hast done in a woman's petticoat ? 

Feeble. I will do my good will, sir : you can have no more. 

Falstaff. W 7 ell said, good woman's tailor ! Well said, courageous 
Feeble ! thou wilt be as valiant as the wrathful dove or most mag- 
nanimous mouse. Prick the woman's tailor : well, Master Shallow ; 
deep, Master Shallow. 

Feeble. I would Wart might have gone, sir. 

Falstaff. I would thou wert a man's tailor, that thou mightst 
mend him and make him fit to go. . . . Let that suffice, most forcible 
Feeble. 

Feeble. It shall suffice, sir. 

Falstaff. I am bound to thee, reverend Feeble. W T ho is next? 

Shallow. Peter Bullcalf o' the green ! 

Falstaff. Yea, marry, let 's see Bullcalf. 

Bullcalf. Here, sir. 

Falstaff. 'Fore God, a likely fellow ! Come, prick me Bullcalf till 
he roar again. 

Bullcalf. O Lord ! good my lord captain, — 

Falstaff. What, dost thou roar before thou art pricked ? 

Bullcalf. O Lord, sir ! I'ma diseased man. 

Falstaff. W T hat disease hast thou ? 



220 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Bullcalf. A terrible cold, sir, a cough, sir. . . . 

Falstaff. Come, thou shalt go to the wars in a gown ; we will ■ 
have away thy cold. ... Is here all ? 

Shallow. Here is two more called than your number ; you must 
have but four here, sir : and so, I pray you, go in with me to dinner. 

Falstaff. Come, I will go drink with you. . . . 

Exeunt Falstaff and Justice Shallow. 

Bullcalf (approaching Bardolph). Good Master Corporate Bar- 
dolph, stand my friend ; and here 's four Harry ten shillings in French 
crowns for you. In very truth, sir, I had as lief be hanged, sir, as go : 
and yet, for mine own part, sir, I do not care ; but rather, because I 
am unwilling, and, for mine own part, have a desire to stay with my 
friends ; else, sir, I did not care, for mine own part, so much. 

Bardolph (pocketing the money). Go to ; stand aside. . . . 

Feeble. By my troth, I care not. 

Adapted from Shakespeare in " King Henry IV" 

70. The Brook 

I come from haunts of coot and hern, 

I make a sudden sally, 
And sparkle out among the fern, 

To bicker down a valley. 

By thirty hills I hurry down, 

Or slip between the ridges, 
By twenty thorps, a little town, 

And half a hundred bridges. . . . 

I chatter over stony ways, 

In little sharps and trebles, 
I bubble into eddying bays, 

I babble on the pebbles. 

With many a curve my banks I fret 

By many a field and fallow, 
And many a fairy foreland set 

With willow-weed and mallow. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 221 

I chatter, chatter, as I flow 

To join the brimming river, 
For men may come and men may go, 

But I go on for ever. 

I wind about, and in and out, 

With here a blossom sailing, 
And here and there a lusty trout, 

And here and there a grayling, 

And here and there a foamy flake 

Upon me, as I travel 
With many a silvery waterbreak 

Above the golden gravel. . . . 

I steal by lawns and grassy plots, 

I slide by hazel covers ; 
I move the sweet forget-me-nots 

That grow for happy lovers. 

I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, 
Among my skimming swallows ; 

I make the netted sunbeam dance 
Against my sandy shallows. 

I murmur under moon and stars 

In brambly wildernesses ; 
I linger by my shingly bars ; 

I loiter round my cresses ; 

And out again I curve and flow 

To join the brimming river, 
For men may come and men may go, 

But I go on for ever. — Tennyson 

71. Herald of Burgundy, in God's name and the King's, I bid 
you go back to your master and say this : Kings are great in the eyes 
of their people, but the people are great in the eyes of God, and it is 
the people of France who answer you in the name of this epitome. 



222 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

The people of France are not so poor in spirit that they fear the 
croak of the Burgundian ravens. We are well victualled, we are well 
armed ; we lie snug and warm behind our stout walls. But when we 
who eat are hungry, when we who drink are dry, when there is 
neither bite on the board nor sup in the pitcher, our answer to rebel- 
lious Burgundy will be the same. We give you back defiance for de- 
fiance, menace for menace, blow for blow. This is our answer, this 
and the drawn sword. God and St. Denis for the King of France ! 

McCarthy 



72. Browning's description of the effect of the recital of classic 
poetry upon a band of piratical Greeks must seem to many persons 
to be exaggerated : 

Then because Greeks are Greeks, and hearts are hearts, 
And poetry is power, they all outbroke 
In a great joyous laughter with much love. 

Because Americans are Americans, and business is business, and 
time is money, and life is earnest, we take our poetry much more 
seriously than that. We are ready to form classes to study it and to 
discuss it, but those solemn assemblies are not likely to be disturbed 
by outbursts of " joyous laughter." 

We usually accept poetry as mental discipline. It is as if the 
poet said, "Go to, now. I will produce a masterpiece." Thereupon 
the conscientious reader answers, " Very well ; I can stand it. I will 
apply myself with all diligence, that by means of it I may improve 
my mind." But the real duty of the reader is suggested by these 
words : " Poetry is the record of the best and happiest moments of 
the best and happiest minds." There must be perfect reciprocity and 
fraternal feeling. The poet being human has his unhappy moments 
when all things are full of labor. Upon such hours the gentle reader 
does not intrude. In their happiest moments they meet as if by 
chance. In this encounter they are pleased with one another and 
the world they live in. How could it be otherwise? It is indeed a 
wonderful world transfigured in the light of thought. Familiar objects 
lose their sharp outlines and become symbols of universal realities. 
Likenesses, before unthought of, appear. Nature becomes a mirror 



SPEECH RHYTHM 223 

of the soul, and answers instantly to each passing mood. Words are 
no longer chosen, they are unbidden as the poet and his reader 

mount to Paradise 
By the stairway of surprise. — Crothers 

By permission of Houghton Mifflin Company 



73. Lead, Kindly Light 

Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom, lead Thou me on ! 
The night is dark, and I am far from home, lead Thou me on ! 
Keep Thou my feet ! I do not ask to see 
The distant scene ; one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou shouldst lead me on ; 
I loved to choose and see my path ; but now lead Thou me on ! 
I loved the garish day ; and, spite of fears, 
Pride ruled my will : remember not past years ! 

So long Thy power has blest me, sure it still will lead me on 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone; 
And with the morn those angel faces smile, 
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile. — Newman 



74. Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee, 

Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, 

Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 

Are all with thee, — are all with thee ! — Longfellow 



75. A Christmas Carol 

STAVE THREE 

Scrooge awoke in his own bedroom. There was no doubt of that. 
But it and his own adjoining sitting-room, into which he shuffled in 
his slippers, were brilliant with a great light, and in easy state upon a 
couch there sat a Giant glorious to see, who bore a glowing torch, 
in shape not unlike Plenty's horn, and who raised it high to shed its 
light on Scrooge as he came peeping round the door. 



224 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" Come in — come in ! and know me better, man. I am the Ghost 
of Christmas Present. Look upon me ! You have never seen the 
like of me before ! 

" Never." 

" Have never walked forth with the younger members of my 
family ; meaning (for I am very young) my elder brothers born in 
these later years? 

" I don't think I have. Have you had many brothers, Spirit? " 

rf More than eighteen hundred." 

" A tremendous family to provide for ! Spirit, conduct me where 
you will. I went forth last night on compulsion, and I learnt a lesson 
which is working now. To-night, if you have aught to teach me, let 
me profit by it." 

ct Touch my robe ! " 

Scrooge did as he was told, and held it fast. 

The room and its contents vanished instantly, and they stood in 
the city streets upon a snowy Christmas morning. 

Scrooge and the Ghost passed on, invisible, straight to Scrooge's 
clerk's ; and on the threshold of the door the Spirit smiled, and 
stopped to bless Bob Cratchit's dwelling with the sprinklings of the 
torch. Think of that ! Bob had but fifteen " bob " a week himself ; 
he pocketed on Saturdays but fifteen copies of his Christian name ; 
and yet the Ghost of Christmas Present blessed his four-roomed 
house ! 

Then up rose Mrs. Cratchit, Cratchit's wife, dressed out but poorly 
in a twice-turned gown, but brave in ribbons, which are cheap and 
make a goodly show for sixpence ; and she laid the cloth assisted by 
Belinda Cratchit, second of her daughters, also brave in ribbons ; 
while Master Peter Cratchit plunged a fork into the saucepan of 
potatoes, and, getting the corners of his enormous shirt-collar (Bob's 
private property, conferred upon his son and heir in honor of the 
day) into his mouth, rejoiced to find himself so gallantly attired, and 
yearned to show his linen in the fashionable Parks. And now two 
smaller Cratchits, boy and girl, came tearing in, screaming that out- 
side the baker's they had smelt the goose, and known it for their 
own ; and, basking in luxurious thoughts of sage and onion, these 
young Cratchits danced about the table, and exalted Master Peter 
Cratchit to the skies, while he (not proud, although his collars nearly 



SPEECH RHYTHM 225 

choked him) blew the fire, until the slow potatoes, bubbling up, 
knocked loudly at the saucepan lid to be let out and peeled. 

cr What has ever got your precious father then ? " said Mrs. Cratchit. 
tr And your brother, Tiny Tim ! And Martha warn't as late last 
Christmas day by half an hour ! " 

" Here 's Martha, mother ! Hurrah, there's such a goose, Martha! " 

" Why, bless your heart alive, my dear, how late you are ! " 

" We 'd a deal of work to finish up last night, and had to clear 
away this morning, mother." 

(t Well, never mind, so long as you are come. Sit ye down before 
the fire, my dear, and have a warm, God bless ye ! " 

" No, no ! There 's father coming home from church," cried the 
two young Cratchits. tf Hide, Martha, hide ! " 

So Martha hid herself, and in came little Bob, the father, with at 
least three feet of comforter, exclusive of the fringe, hanging down 
before him ; and his threadbare clothes darned up and brushed, to 
look seasonable ; and Tiny Tim upon his shoulder. Alas for Tiny 
Tim, he bore a little crutch, and had his limbs supported by an iron 
frame ! 

" W T hy, where 's our Martha? " 

" Not coming ! " 

" Not coming ? " 

"No!" 

" Not coming upon Christmas day ! " 

Martha did not like to see him disappointed, if it were only a joke ; 
so she came out prematurely from behind the closet door, and ran 
into his arms, while the two young Cratchits hustled Tiny Tim, and 
bore him off into the wash-house, that he might hear the pudding 
singing in the copper. 

" And how did little Tim behave ? *' said Mrs. Cratchit. 

" As good as gold, and better ! " 

His active little crutch was heard upon the floor, and back came 
Tiny Tim before another word was spoken. 

And now all set to work with a will to get dinner ready. Mrs. 
Cratchit made the gravy hissing hot ; Master Peter mashed the 
potatoes with incredible vigor : Miss Belinda sweetened up the apple- 
sauce ; Martha dusted the hot plates ; the two young Cratchits set 
chairs for everybody. At last the dishes were set on and grace was 



226 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

said. It was succeeded by a breathless pause, as Mrs. Cratchit, look- 
ing slowly all along the carving knife, prepared to plunge it into the 
breast ; but when she did, and when the long-expected gush of 
stuffing issued forth, one murmur of delight arose all round the 
board, and even Tiny Tim, excited by the two young Cratchits, beat 
on the table with the handle of his knife, and feebly cried, Hurrah ! 

There never was such a goose. Its tenderness and flavor, size 
and cheapness, were the themes of universal admiration. Eked out 
by apple-sauce and mashed potatoes, it was a sufficient dinner for the 
whole family ; indeed, as Mrs. Cratchit said with great delight (survey- 
ing one small atom of a bone upon the dish), they had n't ate it all 
at last ! Yet every one had had enough, and the youngest Cratchits 
in particular were steeped in sage and onions to the eyebrows. But 
now, the plates being changed by Miss Belinda, Mrs. Cratchit left the 
room alone, — too nervous to bear witnesses, — to take the pudding 
up, and bring it in. 

Suppose it should not be done enough ! Suppose it should break in 
the turning out ! Suppose somebody should have got over the wall of 
the back yard, and stolen it, while they were merry with the goose, — a 
supposition at which the two young Cratchits became livid ! All sorts 
of horrors were supposed. 

Hallo ! A great deal of steam ! The pudding was out of the copper. 
A smell like a washing-day ! That was the cloth. A smell like an 
eating-house and a pastry-cook's next door to each other, with a 
laundress next door to that ! That was the pudding ! In half a minute 
Mrs. Cratchit entered, — flushed but smiling proudly, — with the pud- 
ding, like a speckled cannon ball, so hard and firm, blazing in half of 
half a quartern of ignited brandy, and bedight with Christmas holly 
stuck into the top. 

O, a wonderful pudding! Bob Cratchit said, and calmly too, that 
he regarded it as the greatest success achieved by Mrs. Cratchit since 
their marriage. Mrs. Cratchit said that now the weight was off her 
mind she would confess she had had her doubts about the quantity 
of flour. Everybody had something to say about it, but nobody 
thought it was at all a small pudding for a large family. Any Cratchit 
would have blushed to hint at such a thing. 

At last the dinner was done, the cloth was cleared, the hearth 
swept, and the fire made up. Then all the family drew around 



SPEECH RHYTHM 227 

the hearth, in what ""Bob Cratchit called a circle. Then Bob pro- 



" A Merry Christmas to us all, my dears. God bless us ! " 

Which all the family re-echoed. 

" God bless us every one ! " said Tiny Tim, the last of all. 

Scrooge raised his head speedily on hearing his own name. 

"Mr. Scrooge !" said Bob; "I'll give you Mr. Scrooge, the 
Founder of the Feast ! " 

" The Founder of the Feast indeed ! " cried Mrs. Cratchit, red- 
dening. 

" My dear, the children ! Christmas day ! " 

" I '11 drink his health for your sake and the day's, not for his. 
Long life to him ! A merry Christmas and a happy New Year ! " 

The mention of the name cast a dark shadow on the party, which 
was not dispelled for full five minutes. After it had passed away, 
they were ten times merrier than before, from mere relief. 

It was a great surprise to Scrooge, as this scene vanished, to hear 
a hearty laugh. It was a much greater surprise to Scrooge to recog- 
nize it as his own nephew's, and to find himself in a bright, dry, 
gleaming room, with the Spirit standing smiling at his side, and 
looking at the same nephew. 

" He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live ! He believed 
it, too." 

" More shame for him, Fred ! " said Scrooge's niece, indignantly. 

" He 's a comical old fellow, that 's the truth ; and not so pleasant 
as he might be. However, his offences carry their own punishment, 
and I have nothing to say against him. Who suffers by his ill whims ? 
Himself, always ! He won't come and dine with us. What 's the con- 
sequence? He don't lose much of a dinner."' 

" Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner ! " said Scrooge's 
niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must be allowed to 
be competent judges, because they had just had dinner, and were 
clustered round the fire by lamplight. 

Then there was music, and after the music there were games, 
and Scrooge's nephew proposed a game called Yes and No, where 
Scrooge's nephew had to think of something, and the rest must find 
out what, he answering to their questions only yes or no, as the 
case was. The fire of questioning to which he was exposed elicited 



228 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

from him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a 
disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled and 
grunted sometimes, and talked sometimes, and lived in London, and 
walked about the streets, and was n't made a show of, and was n't 
led by anybody, and did n't live in a menagerie, and was never killed 
in a market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, or a 
tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every new question 
put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of laughter, and was 
so inexpressibly tickled that he was obliged to get up off the sofa 
and stamp. At last one cried out : 

" I have found it ! I know what it is, Fred ! I know what it is." 

"What is it?" 

" It 's your uncle Scro-o-o-ge ! " 

Which it certainly was. Admiration was the universal sentiment, 
though some objected that the reply to "Is it a bear?" ought to 
have been " Yes." 

Uncle Scrooge had imperceptibly become so gay and light of 
heart that he would have drank to the company in an inaudible 
speech. But the whole scene passed off in the breath of the last word 
spoken by his nephew, and he and the Spirit were again upon their 
travels. 

Suddenly, as they stood together in an open place, the bell struck 
twelve and Scrooge was alone. He saw the Ghost no more. 

Adapted from Dickens 

II. Speech Rhythm 

The nature of speech rhythm. Under normal conditions 
there is constant activity in the mind. This is the law of 
its life. Complete calm may come in sleep, but even this 
is doubtful. This activity, which manifests itself in many 
ways in expression, is characterized by a continual variation 
in quality and amount. In wakeful hours, at least, the 
senses are pouring experiences into the mind, of which 
some arouse one emotion, some another ; and these varied 
emotions come to the surface again in the play of voice and 



SPEECH RHYTHM 229 

feature. As far as voice is concerned, this changing life 
of the mind reveals itself, as already shown, in melodic 
form and quality of tone. In searching for still further 
modifications of the vocal utterance which express this 
changeful life of the mind, read aloud the following : 

1 . Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! 
Rescue my castle before the hot day 
Brightens to blue from its silvery gray. 

Chorus. Boot, saddle, to horse, and away ! — Browning 

2. God of our fathers, known of old — 

Lord of our far-flung battle-line — 
Beneath Whose awful Hand we hold 

Dominion over palm and pine — ■ 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 
Lest we forget — lest we forget ! — Kipling 

3. A little while ago, I stood by the grave of the old Napoleon, 
a magnificent tomb of gilt and gold, fit almost for a dead deity, and 
gazed upon the sarcophagus of rare and nameless marble, where rest 
at last the ashes of that restless man. — Ingersoll 

In vocal expression the logical significance of these selec- 
tions must be largely brought out by the speech melody. 
The emotions, however, are only partially revealed by the 
melody and tonal quality. By way of testing this, read 
the first selection very slowly ; read the second with un- 
usual rapidity ; as far as possible, keep the melody and 
quality normal. The reader must at once recognize that 
he is failing to catch the full spirit of the selections. This 
subtle something which depends upon the time taken in 
the utterance and responds to the thought and feeling is 
called speech rhythm. If now the third extract be read, 
a further difference in rhythm is found. For these two 



230 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

kinds of rhythm we use the terms " poetry " and " prose " 
respectively. In the first and second extracts there is a 
studied attempt to mark off the words into divisions by 
accents which take about the same time for their utterance ; 
in the third there is no such measured movement. The 
former may be said to have a rhythmic element and the 
latter a time element. The terms "absolute rhythm" and 
"sense rhythm" might be employed. The former is more 
or less artificial, the latter is natural. But poetry has both 
a rhythmic and a time element, — an absolute and a sense 
rhythm. Poetry is not well read when it is uttered alto- 
gether in absolute rhythm : this is scanning. Neither is it 
well read when the absolute rhythm is totally disregarded : 
this is to make it prose. But the voice should respond to 
the metric movement and to the natural rhythm of the 
thought and feeling. All literature has this sense rhythm, 
to which the voice should respond in what is called speech 
rhythm. The absolute rhythm of 1 and 2 above is some- 
what similar; their speech rhythm is very different. The 
first is the prancing movement of a horse at full gallop, 
while the second is the solemn, slow movement of prayer. 
Read the first with a drawl and then with a quick, accented 
movement. The first rendering gives a picture of a cart 
horse, — a conception wholly at variance with the real 
picture ; the second shows a decided gain over the first in 
the revelation of feeling. In the second selection a slow 
movement discloses a feeling of reverence and awe in 
approaching Deity. It is this modulation of the utterance 
in movement, — now rapid, now slow, partly occasioned 
by pauses, now long, now short, — which comes in re- 
sponse to thought and feeling, to which the name "speech 
rhythm " is given. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 231 

Universality of rhythm. Rhythm, as shown above, 
is the manner in which the movement takes place, — it 
is a mode of motion. t( All motion is rhythmical," says 
Herbert Spencer. In nature the actions of objects in wind 
and water are rhythmical, — the fluttering of a flag, the 
swaying of grass and trees, the movements of a weed in 
running water. Heat, light, electricity, and sound are 
rhythmical modes of motion. Actions of the body are of 
the same nature. This rhythmical life of the body plays 
no unimportant part in the life of speech. 

Body rhythms in speech. As already pointed out, the 
first form of public speech was communal. Dancing, sing- 
ing, acting, or working in concert, the primitive community 
celebrated some festive occasion or accomplished some 
piece of work. As the singers or speakers danced together, 
they must keep time, and this time must be a rhythmic 
movement to which the human body can easily lend itself. 
This first speech, then, must have been rhythmical in 
form : it must have had divisions into feet to conform to 
action of actual feet, verses to conform to the actual turns 
(Latin verto) of the body, and stanzas or strophes to con- 
form to the larger actions of the body. Here, probably, 
is the birthplace of absolute rhythm. It marks the differ- 
ence between poetry and prose. This strict rhythm may be 
defined as " the quality of stimulation due to the production 
of a sound or movement, or a small group of sounds or 
movements, at equal intervals of time." 1 But body rhythms 
must to some degree affect the speech rhythms ; the 
breathing, as well the action of the mind, plays a part in 
determining the place and nature of pauses, and so affects 
the whole movement in both prose and poetry. 

1 Gurney. 



232 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Prose rhythms. Before there was a communal song 
there was probably an individual song which inspired the 
former ; and as time went on the communal singing and 
acting combination gradually gave way to the singing, act- 
ing, or dancing by an individual who performed for the 
information or entertainment of his fellows. They may 
have joined in the chorus. Gradually, too, the singer, 
dancer, speaker, or worker became a distinct individual. 
With these changes the speaker was more and more freed 
from absolute rhythm, and the public utterance tended to 
become prose in form. But even to-day there is a tendency 
for a speaker and writer under emotional conditions to have 
quite a marked metrical movement. Contrast these two 
examples, the first from Webster, the second from Carlyle : 



I. When my eyes 
shall be turned 
to behold, 
for the last 
time, the Sun 
in heaven, 
may I not 
see him shining 
on the broken 
and dishonoured 
fragments 
of a once 
glorious 
Union. 



O brother 
we must 
if pos- 
sible 
resus- 
citate 
some soul 
and con- 
science in us ; 
exchange 
our dil- 
ettan- 
tisms for 
sincer- 
ities ; 
our hearts 
of stone 
for liv- 
ing hearts 
of flesh. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 233 

Here is a spontaneous, natural movement which is almost 
metric in character. In Webster there is an ecstasy of 
patriotic emotion. He is a great orator lifting his audience 
to lofty heights with pleasurable feelings. Carlyle, on the 
other hand, is in an exalted mood of devotion to duty. 
He is an aggressive teacher compelling acquiescence by 
the force of his logic. The former appeals to the imagi- 
nation, the latter to the reason. 

Meter. Absolute rhythm is metric ; that is, each line, or 
verse, is divided into feet. The principal feet forms used 
are called iambus, trochee, dactyl, and anapest. In the first 
two there are two syllables, in the latter two there are 
three syllables, to the foot. In the iambus the accent 
or beat is on the second syllable. The word "begone'" is 
ambic. The verse of poetry which follows is iambic : 

The mountains look on Marathon. 

In the trochee the beat is on the first syllable. The word 
"tro'chee" is a trochee. Here is a verse of trochees : 

Tell me not, in mournful numbers. 

The accent in the dactyl comes on the first syllable. The 
vord " an'apest is a dactyl. This verse is dactylic : 

Merrily, merrily, onward we go. 

In the anapest the beat comes upon the last syllable. The 
word " interline' " is an anapest. Here is a verse with an 
anapestic movement : 

There 's a land that is fairer than day. 

There are other metric forms, but they need not concern 
the reader now. Nor do the above forms particularly in- 
terest the student of vocal expression at any time, for 



234 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

English, especially the more modern types, employs such 
a variety, even in the same stanza and sometimes in the 
same line, that the terms used above are losing much of 
their significance. Many writers on the subject have sug- 
gested that it would be more in keeping with the structure 
of our modern verse to use the terms two-beat and three- 
beat, etc., applied to the line. Professor Scripture quotes 
the following stanza from Kipling to illustrate this idea : 

The cities are full of pride, 

/ / / 

Challenging each to each ; 

/ / / 

This from her mountain side, 

/ / / 

That from her burthened beach. 

It is much simpler to call this sort of verse three-beat than 
to attempt to apply one of the "classic" terms named 
above. But from the standpoint of vocal expression the 
important thing is not to find the most complete termi- 
nology but rather to feel the movement and yield to it in 
the vocal utterance. 

Phrasing. Speech melody is most essential in revealing 
intellectual concepts ; yet it also plays its part in express- 
ing emotion. In like manner speech quality manifests the 
presence or the absence of emotion, essentially intellectual 
utterances finding expression in a nonemotional quality of 
voice. In the speech tune each modulation has a part to 
play, and the time element marks off the tune into periods 
of longer or shorter duration. As already shown, these 
divisions correspond to the powers of body and of mind, 
and are indicated in good reading by what are called 
phrases. Correct phrasing is a most important process in 
conveying intellectual concepts. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 235 

Mind and speech rhythm. The really important thing, 
then, is to sense the movement in time, to recognize it, to 
respond to it, and to so interpret it that the reader may feel 
not only the absolute rhythm, where that exists, but the still 
subtler element, the free rhythm of thought and feeling 
which no absolute metric formula can convey, and which 
is common to both prose and poetry. Movement, with its 
pauses, then, like the other vocal modulations already con- 
sidered, is the expressive means for the revelation of 
thought and feeling. Under normal conditions slow move- 
ment and long pauses may be marks of serious and digni- 
fied mental states ; otherwise they may be evidences of 
stupidity and dullness and may degenerate into pulseless 
hesitation. On the other hand, under normal conditions 
rapid movement with short pauses may be a mark of 
intense activity ; otherwise it may be just as sure an 
indication of shallowness and triviality. 

Faults in speech rhythm. Variety in its activities 
marks the state of the normal mind. The utterance, then, 
of such mental states must show great rhythmic variety. 
As already pointed out, the greatest fault in speech melody 
is monopitch ; in speech quality, monotone. Following, in 
the case of speech rhythm, an analogous line of reasoning, 
the most serious fault in speech rhythm must be mono- 
meter ; that is, giving with one stolid movement in utterance 
the varied thought and feeling of a speech, or of a specific 
selection in reading. This constant repetition in time, 
like the repetition in form, is sometimes called singsong. 
If variety be the spice of literature or any other form of 
normal human life, variety in every phase of vocal ex- 
pression is inevitable. Nearly all persons read and speak 
too fast. This is only another way of saying that they do 



236 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

not fully grasp the thought. The common practice in 
colleges of presenting an "oration" learned "by heart" 
leads to a defective movement. The student becomes so 
familiar with the words of his discourse that it tends to be- 
come a matter of external forms rather than a matter of 
ideas. The movement is monometric. Ideas which origi- 
nally came from hours of toilsome thinking glide from the 
tongue as glibly as the everyday greeting of friends on 
the street. A long pause, under normal conditions, indi- 
cates that the mind is at work accumulating the thought 
and feeling which demand utterance. The weightier the 
thought, other things being equal, the longer the pause. 
The lack of pause would indicate that the student is not 
thinking. The timing in debate leads the student to over- 
crowd the precious moments with material which must be 
rushed along at a high rate of speed, destroying the possi- 
bility of a proper proportion in the time of the utterance. 
In both oratory and debate, as at present conducted in 
colleges and universities, the hearer is liable to get no 
stronger grasp upon the thought than the speaker seems 
to have. 

Teaching of speech rhythm. The teaching of speech 
rhythm, like the teaching of speech forms and speech 
qualities, must be for the most part the teaching to think 
and to feel. Power in an art is gained only by doing, and 
the doing is determined by the mind behind it. Accurate 
knowledge of the processes of speech may actually hinder 
the sttfdent in reading and speaking, especially if the 
knowledge has been acquired in the wrong way, — if, in 
other words, the attention of the reader is centered upon 
the outward forms of the utterance, to the loss of a thorough 
stimulation of the mind. 



SPEECH RHYTHM 237 

The study of any modulation involves the use of every 
other modulation of the voice. Each phase of vocal ex- 
pression is best studied by an attempt at expression. In 
every case there should be a response to thought and feel- 
ing. Literature abounds in these contrasts, which find 
external being in contrasts of movement. Let the learner 
seek two short selections showing a marked contrast in 
movement, or a single selection in which there is a strong 
antithesis. Let him turn once more to the Webster per- 
oration and discover what effect the contrasts there have 
upon the action in speech rhythm. 

Voice training for speech rhythm. It has been pointed 
out that range of voice is essential to good vocal action in 
speech melody and that resonance of voice must be sought 
to secure proper exercise to create vocal quality in the 
study of speech quality ; in like manner, to bring about 
a correct vocal action to secure the best possible results 
in speech rhythm, agility of voice is of the highest impor- 
tance. There must be the utmost freedom of the tone 
passage to provide a quick and full response to the thought 
and feeling. An open passage with agility of tongue is 
absolutely essential. The great fault with the "American 
voice ' ' is that it is restricted in the passage through the 
mouth and throat. Nasality and throatiness . are too com- 
mon. The fixing of the jaw and the lazy action of the 
tongue are responsible for much of this faulty action. 

Summary. Speech rhythm is the department of vocal 
expression which treats of the action of the vocal utterance 
in time in response to thought and feeling. As an ele- 
ment of vocal expression it is the response of the vocal 
utterance in movement and pause to the thought and feel- 
ing. There are two kinds of rhythm : absolute and sense. 



238 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

The former finds expression in meter and is essential to 
poetry. The latter is free from artificial demands and is 
characteristic of prose. Speech rhythm serves, like speech 
quality and speech melody, as a test of emotional condi- 
tions of the speaker or reader. To develop speech rhythm 
to its fullest manifestation there must be cultivation of agil- 
ity in vocal action and a free normal action of the mind. 

III. Vocal Program 

Speech dynamics. The student and reader who has con- 
sistently followed instructions up to this point has reached 
a place where little remains to be done except putting on 
"the finishing touches." He should have so mastered 
the preliminary steps that he can easily control his voice 
in both quality and quantity. Power up to the limits of 
his possibilities should be his to use at will. Vocal action 
should be spontaneous and free. Well-controlled power 
with ease of adjustment is usually the last thing to be 
acquired. But such artistic excellence comes only to the 
student who has a keen appreciation of goodness, truth, 
and beauty. A highly developed taste and a refinement 
of expression are inseparably linked together. 

To secure volume of tone with adequate power to make 
it large or small as thought and feeling require is an 
acquirement of the most valuable sort. Constant, correct 
practice is the prime essential. Says Henry Ward Beecher : 
" The only method of acquiring effective elocution is by 
practice, of not less than an hour a day, until the student 
has his voice and himself thoroughly subdued and trained 
to right expression." 

Most of the technical exercises already given are a 
direct aid in the development of a proper quantity of tone 



SPEECH RHYTHM 239 

and a sensitive response in touch, so that the student would 
find it profitable at this point to review the whole series 
of exercises already offered and spend some time in read- 
ing aloud such selections as the following : 

A. Advance, then, the future generations ! We would hail you, as 
you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, 
and to taste the blessings of existence. 



1 ! Arm ! it is — it is — the 



cannons 



openn 



C. O Thou Eternal One ! whose presence bright 
All space doth occupy, all motion guide ; 
Unchanged through time's all-devastating flight ; 
Thou only God ! There is no God beside. 

D. So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, 

So light to the saddle before her he sprung ! — Scott 

E. Which is the real hereditary sin of humanity ? Do you imagine 
that I shall say pride, or luxury, or ambition ? No ! I shall say indo- 
lence. He who conquers that, can conquer all. 

F. Up drawbridge, grooms — what, warder, ho ! 
Let the portcullis fall. 

G. Under me the grass, 

Over me the sky ; 
I can sleep and dream until 

The night goes by : 
Till the shadows pass, 

Till the stars depart, 
Let a roving gypsy fill 

His hungry heart. 

H. A clear mind and a stiff backbone ! The country is full of 
them. They are to be found wherever wealth and power have their 
abode. They make successful men, but it is being proved daily that 
they do not necessarily make good citizens. It is the warm heart we 



240 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

•need more in our national life. Sympathy, humanitarianism, patri- 
otism, honesty. These are the attributes of the warm heart. To sug- 
gest that the school children of the country be taught to regard them 
as things that should be shunned is a serious mistake. 

Practice the following selections under the exercises 
for promoting speech dynamics: numbers 3, 6, 7, 12, 14, 

15, 16, 24, and 27. 



CHAPTER V 

SPEECH DYNAMICS 

I. Practical Exercises 

Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears ; 
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. 
The evil that men do lives after them ; 
The good is oft interred with their bones ; 
So let it be with Caesar. — Shakespeare 

The trumpet sounded short and sharp. Forth 
from each stall, like missiles in a volley 
from so many great guns, rushed the six 
fours ; and up the vast assembly arose, elec- 
trified and irrepressible, and leaping upon the 
benches, filled the circus and the air 
above it with yells and screams. — Wallace 

A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! . . . 

Slave, I have set my life upon a cast, 

And I will stand the hazard of the die : 

I think there be six Richmonds in the field ; 

Five have I slain to-day instead of him. 

A horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! 

Shakespeare 

Oh ! show me where is He, 

The high and Holy One, 

To whom thou bend'st the knee, 

And pray'st, — tf Thy will be done ! " 

I hear thy song of praise 

And lo ! no form is near : 

Thine eyes I see thee raise, 

But where doth God appear ? 
241 



242 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Oh ! teach me who is God, and where His glories shine, 
That I may kneel and pray, and call thy Father mine. 

Gaze on that arch above ; 
The glittering vault admire, 
Who taught those orbs to move ? 
Who lit their ceaseless fire ? 
Who guides the moon to run 
In silence through the skies ? 
Who bids that dawning sun 
In strength and beauty rise ? 

Their view immensity ! Behold ! my God is there ; 
The sun, the moon, the stars, His majesty declare. 

5. Katharine. I do believe, 
Induced by potent circumstances, that 

You are mine enemy, and make my challenge 
You shall not be my judge : for it is you 
Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me ; 
Which God's dew quench ! Therefore I say again, 
I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul 
Refuse you for my judge ; whom, yet once more, 
I hold my most malicious foe, and think not 
At all a friend to truth. — Shakespeare 

6. Hush ! silence along the lines there ! Silence along the lines 
there ! Not a word — not a word on the peril of your lives ! 

Lippard 

7. Marcellus. Peace, break thee off ; look, where it comes 

again ! 

Bernardo. In the same figure, like the king that 's dead. 

Marcellus. Thou art a scholar ; speak to it, H oratio. 

Bernardo. Looks it not like the king ? mark it, Horatio. 
Horatio. Most like : it harrows me with fear and wonder. 

Bernardo. It would be spoke to. 
Marcellus. Question it, Horatio. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 243 

Horatio. What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, 
Together with that fair and warlike form 
In which the majesty of buried Denmark 
Did sometimes march ? by heaven I charge thee, speak ! 

Marcellus. It is offended. 

Bernardo. See, it stalks away ! 

Horatio. Stay ! speak, speak ! I charge thee, speak ! {Exit G/iost] 

Marcellus. 'T is gone, and will not answer. 

Bernardo. How now, Horatio ! you tremble and look pale : 
Is not this something more than phantasy ? 
What think you on 't ? — Shakespeare 

8. Cursed be my tribe, if I forgive him ! 

9. O God, that I were a man ! I would eat his heart in the 
market-place. — Shakespeare 

10. Gloucester. Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. 
Anne. What black magician conjures up this fiend, 

To stop devoted charitable deeds ? 

Gloucester. Villains, set down the corse ; or, by Saint Paul, 
I '11 make a corse of him that disobeys. . . . 
Unmanner'd dog ! stand thou, when I command : 
Advance thy halberd higher than my breast, 
Or, by Saint Paul, I '11 strike thee to my foot, 
And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. — Shakespeare 

11. I have thus far shown, from the gentleman's own arguments, 
that the doctrine advanced by him is not at present received: — that it 
never was received : that it can never by any possibility be received : 
and that, if admitted, it must be by the total subversion of liberty 
itself ! 

12. Is there a way to forget to think? 

At your age. sir. home, fortune, friends, 
A dear girl's love, — but I took to drink ; — 
The same old storv : vou know how it ends. 



244 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

If you could have seen these classic features, — 
You need n't laugh, sir ; they were not then 

Such a burning libel on God's creatures : 

I was one of your handsome men ! — Trowbridge 

13. Too hard to bear ! why did they take me thence? 
O God Almighty, blessed Saviour, Thou 

That didst uphold me on my lonely isle, 

Uphold me, Father, in my loneliness 

A little longer ! aid me, give me strength 

Not to tell her, never to let her know. 

Help me not to break in upon her peace. 

My children too ! must I not speak to these ? 

They know me not. I should betray myself. 

Never : No father's kiss for me — the girl 

So like her mother, and the boy, my son. — Tennyson 

14. And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, 
The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, 
Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, 
And swiftly forming in the ranks of war ; 

And the deep thunder peal on peal afar ; 
And near, the beat of the alarming drum 
Roused up the soldier ere the morning star ; 
While throng'd the citizens with terror dumb, 
Or whispering, with white lips — " The foe ! They come ! 
They come ! " — Byron 

15. Ho! strike the flag-staff deep, Sir Knight — ho! scatter 

flowers, fair maids : 
Ho! gunners, fire a loud salute — ho! gallants, draw your 
blades. 

16. A Cure-all 

Feeling pretty blue, you say ? 

Ha! ha! ha! 
Things went wrong with you to-day ? 

Ha ! ha ! ha ! 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 245 

One would think, to see you frown, 
All the troubles in the town 
Clung to you and weighed you down. 
Ha! ha! ha! 

Come now, mister, don't get mad. 

Ha! ha! ha! 
I ain't laughin' cause you 're sad. 

Ha! ha! ha! 
I 've had troubles, too, to-day — 
Bad as yours, I '11 bet — but, say, 
I 'm a drivin' 'em away. 

Ha! ha! ha! 

Grandest tonic on this earth — 

Ha! ha! ha! 
Is a steady dose of mirth. 

Ha! ha! ha! 
Just you get a strangle hold 
On your cares and knock 'em cold 
With a hearty, merry, old 

Ha! ha! ha! 

Catholic Standard and Times 

17. O Love that wilt not let me go, 

I rest my weary soul in thee ; 
I give thee back the life I owe, 
That in thine ocean depths its flow 
May richer, fuller be. 

O Light that followest all my way, 

I yield my flickering torch to thee ; 
My heart restores its borrowed ray, 
That in thy sunshine's blaze its day 
May fairer, brighter be. 

O Joy that seekest me through pain, 
I cannot close my heart to thee ; 



246 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

I trace the rainbow through the rain, 
And feel the promise is not vain 
That morn shall tearless be. 

Cross that liftest up my head, 

I dare not ask to fly from thee ; 

1 lay in dust life's glory dead, 

And from the ground there blossoms red 

Life that shall endless be. — Matheson 

18. Suddenly the notes of the deep-laboring organ burst upon 
the ear, falling with doubled and redoubled intensity, and rolling, 
as it were, huge billows of sound. How well do their volume and 
grandeur accord with this mighty building ! With what pomp do 
they swell through its vast vaults and breathe their awful harmony 
through these caves of death, and make the silent sepulchre vocal ! — 
And now they rise in triumph and acclamation, heaving higher and 
higher their accordant notes, and piling sound on sound. — And now 
they pause, and the soft voices of the choir break out into sweet 
gushes of melody ; they soar aloft and warble along the roof, and 
seem to play about these lofty vaults like the pure airs of heaven. 
Again the pealing organ heaves its thrilling thunders, compressing 
air into music, and rolling it forth upon the soul. What long-drawn 
cadences ! What solemn, sweeping concords ! It grows more and more 
dense and powerful — it fills the vast pile, and seems to jar the very 
walls — the ear is stunned — the senses are overwhelmed. And now 
it is winding up in full jubilee — it is rising from the earth to heaven 
— the very soul seems rapt away and floated upwards on this swelling 
tide of harmony ! — Irving 



19. Hymn before Sunrise, in the Vale of Chamouni 

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning-star 

In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause 

On thy bald awful head, O sovran Blanc ! 

The Arve and Arveiron at thy base 

Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful Form ! 

Risest from forth thy silent sea of pines, 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 247 

How silently ! Around thee and above 
Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, 
An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it, 
As with a wedge ! But when I look again, 
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, 
Thy habitation from eternity ! 

dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee, 
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, 

Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 

1 worshipped the Invisible alone. 

Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise 
Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, 
Mute thanks and secret ecstasy ! Awake, 
Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my heart, awake ! 
Green vales and icy cliffs, all join my Hymn. 

Ye Ice-falls ! ye that from the mountain's brow 
Adown enormous ravines slope amain — 
Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 
And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! 
Motionless torrents ! silent cataracts ! 
Who made you glorious as the Gates of Heaven 
Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun 
Clothe you with rainbows ? Who, with living flowers 
Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ? — 
God ! let the torrents, like a shout of nations, 
Answer ! and let the ice-plains echo, God ! 
God ! sing ye meadow-streams with gladsome voice ! 
Ye pine-groves, with your soft and soul-like sounds ! 
And they too have a voice, yon piles of snow, 
And in their perilous fall shall thunder, God ! 

Thou too, hoar Mount ! with thy sky-pointing peaks, 

Great Hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky, 
And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun 
Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God ! — Colertdge 



248 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

20. " Wal naow, Horace, don't ye cry so. Why, I 'm railly con- 
cerned for ye. Why, don't you s'pose your daddy's better off? 
Why, sartin / do. Don't cry, there 's a good boy now. I '11 give ye 
my jack-knife now." 

This was addressed to me the day after my father's death, while 
the preparations for the funeral hung like a pall over the house. 
The speaker was a tall, shambling, loose-jointed man, who occupied 
the responsible position of first do-nothing-in-ordinary in our village 
of Oldtown. Sam had been up all night in our house, and having 
set me up in the clover,, and comforted me with a jack-knife, he 
proceeded to inform me of the particulars. 

" Why, ye see, Horace, I ben up with 'em pretty much all night ; 
and I laid yer father out myself, and I never see a better-lookin' 
corpse. It 's a 'mazin' pity your daddy hed such feelin's 'bout havin' 
people come to look at him. Why, you never see such a talk as there 
was about it. There was Betsey and Patsy Sawin come over early to 
look at the corpse, and when they was n't let in, you never heerd 
sich a jawin'. They said they allers suspected your father was an 
infidel, or some sich, and now they was clear." 

tr My father is n't an infidel, and I wish I could kill 'em ! " 

" Wal now, Horace, your daddy looks jest as peaceful as a psalm- 
tune. Now, you don't know — jest as nateral as if he'd only jest 
gone to sleep. So ye may set your heart at rest 'bout him." Sam 
lay back in the clover, with his hands under his head, and began to 
moralize : 

" Lordy massy, Horace," to think on 't — it 's so kind o' solemnizin ! ' 
It 's one's turn to-day, and another's to-morrow. We never know 
when our turn '11 come." And Sam raised a favorite stave, — 

And must these active limbs of mine 
Lie moulderin' in the clay ? 

" Active limbs ! I guess so ! Well, I 've found you at last. Here 
you be, Sam Lawson, lyin' flat on your back at eleven o'clock in the 
morning, and not a potato dug, and not a stick of wood cut to get 
dinner with ; and I won't cut no more if we never have dinner. The 
more I do, the more I may do ; so come home, won't you ? " 

" Hepsy, I was jest a miditatin'. Ef we don't miditate sometimes 
on all these 'ere things, it '11 be wus for us by and by." 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 249 

" Meditate ! I'll help your meditations in a way you won't like, if 
you don't look out. So now you come home, and stop your meditatin', 
and go to doin' somethin','' said the very practical Hepsy, laying firm 
hold of Sam's unresisting arm, and leading him away captive. 

Harriet Beecher Stowe in " Oldtown Folks." 

2 1 . Centuries ago, on the rock-bound coast of Massachusetts Bay, 
one night there was a wedding. The sky was the roof that covered 
the high contracting parties, and the stars, painted by the finger 
of God, were the fresco-work ; the music was that of the singing 
night-bird and the surge of the gray old ocean ; the bidden guests 
were the Puritan fathers and the Puritan mothers ; the unbidden 
guests were the dusky savages ; the bride and the bridegroom were 
the meeting-house and the schoolhouse, and from that marriage was 
born a child. They christened it New England Civilization. New 
England Civilization, inspired by the Bible and the school book, what 
a power it has been in this Republic ! New England Civilization, the 
only power that dared to cry halt to advancing barbarism ; that said 
to slavery, ?c Thus far and no farther forever," and when in its inso- 
lence it overstepped the bounds, seized it by the throat and throttled 
it to the death ! New England Civilization, the inspiration of every 
great enterprise, of every marvelous invention, of every forward and 
upward move of man and mind. New England Civilization, that 
living spirit which opened up to every boy such splendid oppor- 
tunities, such glittering possibilities ; that raised a ladder, its base on 
the earth, its top in heaven, and encouraged the barefooted boy of 
the West to mount by the round of the canal-boat, by the round of the 
academy, by the round of the college, by the round of the teacher's 
desk, by the round of the war for equal rights, by the round of the 
House of Representatives, by the round of the Senate, by the round 
of the Presidency, by the round of a perfect life, a patient sickness 
and heroic death, to a place in heaven by the side of Washington 
and Lincoln. Religion and education, love of God and regard for 
man, — this is the secret of New England's strength in the nation. 

Frye 

22. " I shall say, 'Are you ready? ' once ; and then, if I hear no 
reply, I shall say, f Go ! ' " The referee's voice sounds hollow and 
harsh through the megaphone. 



250 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

I take one last glance over my shoulder at the other crews. They 
are both set, vindictive, and strong, coiled beautifully with power to 
spring. The challenge of their attitude sets my teeth, and as I turn 
my blade square and deep in the water, and feel it snug against the 
thole-pin, with a tight grip of both hands for the wrench, the intol- 
erable and consuming nervousness of the past hours goes from me. 
I am conscious only of a tingling in my temples, and a sense of a 
great clearness somewhere above and before my eyes. Then like the 
voice of Fate, — "Gentlemen, are you ready?" — I know nothing 
but the nape of 4's neck. 

tf Go ! " Harvard Advocate 

23. But have we finished the fight ? May we lay the armor off and 
hang the sword on its peg ? " Eternal vigilance is the price of liberty ? " 
For a century we were sluggards, seemed to sleep, and barbarism 
grew stronger and stronger until we awoke, then it slunk back. Dead ? 
No, only waiting for its opportunity. There is an old story of a giant 
who had lived for fifty years a cruel, wicked life, then repented, and, 
to do works meet for repentance, built him a little hut by the side of 
a broad, bridgeless river, and carried every passing traveler across 
the stream on his shoulders. One dark, tempestuous night a child 
knocked at his door, and asked to be carried over. The giant took 
him on his broad shoulders, nothing but a feather's weight to him, 
marched out boldly into the darkness and the stream ; but as he 
marched on the burden grew heavy and heavier, until at last it seemed 
to him that he and his burden must sink forever beneath the terrible 
waves. Of a sudden he looked and found that he was bearing the 
Christ Child ; immediately he received Christ's strength, and bore 
him safely to the other shore. From that day he has been known as 
St. Christopher, the Christ-bearer. Now we took this blessed Re- 
public upon our strong shoulders, agreeing to carry it in honor and 
safety, through peace and war, through prosperity and adversity, 
through brightness and darkness, through calm and tempest. To us 
it was a mere feather's weight, and we boldly bore it along ; but it 
grew heavy and heavier, until right in the darkness and tempest of 
terrible civil war it seemed to us that we and the Republic must 
sink forever beneath the waves. Then, and for the first time, in the 
Proclamation of Emancipation by the immortal Lincoln, we looked 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 25 I 

up, found that we were carrying, not slavery, but justice, freedom, 
equal rights, all of them children of Christ ; and immediately we 
received his strength, and have been nobly bearing our burden on 
towards safety. The haven has not yet been reached. By demands 
of business, by forgetfulness of history, by appeals for conciliation, 
by necessities of parties, by weariness of strife, by every temptation, 
we are enticed once more to look down. 

Sons of New England, look not down ; it is full of deadly peril. 
Stand on the watchtowers of civilization, and ceaselessly cry out to 
the people, " Oh, look not down ! " Sons of New England, in pulpit, 
at teacher's desk, in professor's chair, in the halls of Congress, 
on the bench, in the counting-room, in the shop, by the loom, on 
the farm, wherever you may be, at home or abroad, in the name of 
your fathers' God, for the sake of the precious Republic, cry out to 
the people, tc Look up, look up ! " and looking up, they will ever see 
that they are bearing a Republic, founded in justice, liberty, and equal 
rights. Seeing and remembering, they will have God's help, and our 
country shall be saved. — Frye 

24. Fool ! thinkest thou that because no Boswell is there with 
ass-skin and black lead to note thy jargon, it therefore dies and is 
harmless ? Nothing dies, nothing can die. No idlest word thou 
speakest but is a seed cast into Time, and grows through all eternity ! 
The Recording Angel, consider it well, is no fable but the truest of 
truths : the paper tablets thou canst burn ; of the iron leaf there is 
no burning. Truly if we can permit God Almighty to note down our 
conversation, thinking it good enough for him, — any poor Boswell 
need not scruple to work his will of it. — Carlyle 

25. In a valley, centuries ago, 

Grew a little fernleaf, green and slender, 

Yeining delicate and fibres tender ; 
Waving when the wind crept down so low. 
Rushes tall, and moss, and grass grew round it, 
Playful sunbeams darted in and found it, 
But no foot of man e'er trod that way ; 
Earth was young and keeping holiday. — Branch 



252 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

26. But, whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured, that 
this Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost 
blood ; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. 
Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the 
future, as the Sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an im- 
mortal day. When we are in our graves, our children will honour it. 
They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, 
and illuminations. . . . My judgment approves this measure, and my 
whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that 
I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it: and I 
leave off, as I began, that, live or die, survive or perish, I am for the 
Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and by the blessing of God 
it shall be my dying sentiment, Independence now, and l7idepende?ice 
for ever. — Webster 

27. The period of our time is brief: 
'T is the red of the red rose leaf, 
'T is the gold of the sunset sky, 
'T is the flight of a bird on high, 
But we may fill the space 
With such an infinite grace 
That the red will vein all time, 
And gold through the ages shine, 
And the bird fly swift and straight 
To the portals of God's own gate. 

28. Sire, I am only a woman, and have no claim on your 
Majesty's attention except that of the weakest on the strongest. 
Probably my very name as the wife of an English poet, and as 
named itself a little among English poets, is unknown to your Maj- 
esty. I never approached my own sovereign with a petition, nor am 
I skilled in the way of addressing kings. Yet having, through a stu- 
dious and thoughtful life, grown used to great men (among the dead, 
at least) I cannot feel entirely at a loss in speaking to the Emperor 
Napoleon. And I beseech you to have patience with me while I 
supplicate you. It is not for myself nor for mine. 

I have been reading with wet eyes and a swelling heart (as many 
who love and some who hate your Majesty have lately done) a book 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 253 

called the Contemplations of a man who has sinned deeply against 
you in certain of his political writings, and who expiates rash phrases 
and unjustifiable statements in exile in Jersey. I have no personal 
knowledge of this man ; I never saw his face ; and certainly I do 
not come now to make his apology. It is indeed precisely because 
he cannot be excused that I think he might worthily be forgiven. 
For this man, whatever else he is not, is a great poet of France, and 
the Emperor, who is the guardian of her other glories, should remem- 
ber him. Ah, Sire, what was written on Napoleon le Petit does not 
touch your Majesty ; but what touches you is, that no historian of 
the age should have to write hereafter, "while Napoleon III reigned, 
Victor Hugo lived in exile." What touches you is, that when your 
people count gratefully the men of commerce, arms, and science 
secured to you by France, no voice shall murmur, "But where is 
our poet ? " What touches you is, that however statesman and poli- 
tician may justify his exclusion, it may draw no sigh from men of 
sentiment and impulse, yes, and from women like myself. What 
touches you is, that when your own beloved young prince shall come 
to read these poems (and when you wish him a princely nature, you 
wish, Sire, that such things should move him) he may exult to recall 
that his imperial father was great enough to overcome this great poet 
with magnanimity. 

Ah, Sire, you are great enough ! You can allow for the peculiarity 
of the poetical temperament, for the temptations of high gifts, for the 
fever in which poets are apt to rage and suffer beyond the measure 
of other men. Forgive this enemy, this accuser, this traducer. Dis- 
prove him by your generosity. Make an exception of him, as God 
made an exception of him when He gave him genius, and call him 
back without condition to his country and his daughter's grave. I 
have written these words without the knowledge of any. Naturally 
I should have preferred, as a woman, to have addressed them through 
the tender-hearted Empress Eugenie ; but, as a wife myself, I felt it 
would be harder for her Majesty to pardon an offense against the 
Emperor Napoleon, than it could be for the Emperor. 

And I am driven by an irresistible impulse to your Majesty's feet 
to ask this grace. It is a woman's voice, Sire, which dares to utter 
what many yearn for in silence. I have believed in Napoleon III. 
Passionately loving the democracy, I have understood from the 



254 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

beginning that it was to be served thro'out Europe in you and by you. 
I have trusted you for doing greatly. I will trust you, besides, for 
pardoning nobly. You will be Napoleon in this also. 

Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

29. Liberty, gentlemen, is a solemn thing, — a welcome, a joyous, a 
glorious thing, if you please, but it is a solemn thing. A free people 
must be a thoughtful people. The subjects of a despot may be reck- 
less and gay if they can. A free people must be serious ; for it has 
to do the greatest thing in the world, — to govern itself. 

That hour in human life is most serious when it passes from 
parental control into free manhood ; then must the man bind the 
righteous law upon himself more strongly than father or mother ever 
bound it upon him. And when a people leaves the leading strings of 
prescriptive authority and enters upon the ground of freedom, that 
ground must be fenced with law ; it must be tilled with wisdom ; it 
must be hallowed with prayer. The tribunal of justice, the free school, 
the holy church, must be built there to intrench, to defend, and to 
keep the sacred heritage. 

Liberty, I repeat, is a solemn thing. The world, up to this time, 
has regarded it as a boon — not as a bond. And there is nothing, I 
seriously believe, in the present crisis of human affairs, — there is no 
point in the great human welfare, on which men's ideas so much need 
to be cleared up, to be advanced, to be raised to a higher standard, 
as this grand and terrible responsibility of freedom. In the uni- 
verse there is no trust so awful as moral freedom ; and all good civil 
freedom depends upon the use of that. But look at it. Around every 
human, every rational being, is drawn a circle ; the space within is 
cleared from obstruction, or at least from all coercion ; it is sacred 
to the being himself who stands there ; it is secured and consecrated 
to his own responsibility. May I say it ? — God himself does not pene- 
trate there with any absolute, any coercive power ! He compels the 
winds and waves to obey Him ; he compels animal instincts to obey 
him ; but he does not compel man to obey. That sphere he leaves free ; 
he brings influences to bear upon it, but the last, final, solemn, infi- 
nite question between right and wrong, he leaves to the man himself. 

Ah ! instead of madly delighting in his freedom, I could imagine 
a man to protest, to complain, to tremble that such a tremendous 






SPEECH DYNAMICS 255 

prerogative is accorded to him. But it is accorded to him ; and noth- 
ing but willing obedience can discharge that trust ; nothing but a 
heroism greater than that which fights battles and pours out its blood 
upon its country's altar, — the heroism of renunciation and self-control. 
Come that liberty ! I invoke it with all the ardor of the poets and 
orators of freedom ; with Spenser and Milton, with Hampden and 
Sidney, with Rienzi and Dante, with Hamilton and Washington, I 
invoke it ! Come that liberty ! Come none that does not lead to that ! 
Come the liberty that shall strike off every chain, not only of iron, 
and iron law, but of painful restriction, of fear, of enslaving passion, 
of mad self-will, — the liberty of perfect truth and love, of holy faith 
and glad obedience ! — Dewey 

30. In the name of all real manful democracy, in the name of the 
true strength that only can make our republic reputable among the 
nations, let us repudiate the strength that is no stronger than a human 
biceps ; let us repudiate the manfulness that averages no more than 
six feet high. My democrat, the democrat whom I contemplate with 
pleasure, the democrat who is to write or read the poetry of the 
future, may have a mere thread for his biceps, yet he shall be strong 
enough to handle hell ; he shall play ball with the earth, and albeit 
his stature may be no more than a boy's, he shall be taller than the 
great redwoods of California ; his height shall be the height of a 
great resolution, and love and faith and beauty and knowledge and 
subtle meditation ; his head shall be forever among the stars. 

Lanier 
Charles Scribner^s Sons, Publishers 

3 1 . And now before the open door — 

The warrior priest had ordered so — 
The enlisting trumpet's sudden roar 
Rang thro' the chapel, o'er and o'er ; 

Its long reverberating blow 
So loud and clear, it seemed the ear 
Of dusty death must wake and hear. 
And there the startling drum and fife 
Fired the living with fiercer life ; 
While overhead, with wild increase, 



256 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Forgetting its ancient toll of peace, 

The great bell swung as ne'er before ; 
It seemed as it would never cease ; 
And every word its ardor flung 
From off its jubilant iron tongue 
Was" War! War! War!" — Read 

32. While the heart beats young ! Oh, the splendor of the spring, 
With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing ! 

. The fairest, rarest morning of the blossom time of May 
Is not so sweet a season as the season of to-day, 
While the youth's diviner climate folds and holds us, close 

caressed, 
As we feel our mothers with us by the touch of face and 

breast ; 
Our bare feet in the meadows and our fancies up among 
The airy clouds of morning — while the heart beats young. 

James Whitcomb Riley 

33. What I want to do is to put definitely before you a cause for 
which to strive : that cause is the Democracy of Art, the ennobling of 
daily and common work, which will one day put hope and pleasure 
in the place of fear and pain, as the forces which move men to labor 
and keep the world a-going. — William Morris 

34. Look Without 

Behold the beauty of the day, the shout 
Of color to glad color, — rocks and trees, 
And sun and sea, and wind and sky ! All these 
Are God's expression, art work of his hand, 
Which men must love, ere they can understand. 

Richard Hovey 

35. Search creation round, where can you find a country that 
presents so sublime a view, so interesting an anticipation ? Who shall 
say for what purpose mysterious Providence may not have designed 
her ! Who shall say that when in its follies or its crimes the Old 
World may have buried all the pride of its power, and all the pomp 



SPEECH DYNAxMICS 257 

of its civilization, human nature may not find its destined renovation 
in the New ! When its temples and trophies shall have mouldered into 
dust — when the glories of its name shall be but the legend of tra- 
dition, and the light of its achievements live only in song, philosophy 
will revive again in the sky of her Franklin, and glory rekindle at 
the urn of her Washington. 

36. Gloriously, Max, gloriously ! There were sixty horses in the 
field, all mettle to the bone ; the start was a picture — away we went 
in a cloud — pell-mell — helter-skelter — the fools first, as usual, using 
themselves up. We soon passed them, - — ■ first your Kitty, then my 
Blueskin, and Craven's colt last. Then came the tug — Kitty skimmed 
the walls — Blueskin flew over the fences — the colt neck-and-neck, 
and half a mile to run. At last the colt balked a leap and went 
wild. Kitty and I had it all to ourselves — she was three lengths 
ahead as we breasted the last wall, six feet, if an inch, and a ditch 
on the other side. Now, for the first time I gave Blueskin his head 
— Ha, ha ! Away he flew like a thunderbolt — over went the filly — 
I over the same spot, leaving Kitty in the ditch — walked the steeple, 
eight miles in thirty minutes, and scarcely turned a hair. 

37. Not only around our infancy 

Doth heaven with all its splendors lie ; 
Daily, with souls that cringe and plot. 
We Sinais climb and know it not. 

Over our manhood bend the skies ; 

Against our fallen and traitor lives 
The great winds utter prophecies ; 

With our faint hearts the mountain strives ; 
Its arms outstretched, the druid wood 

Waits with its benedicite ; 
And to our age's drowsy blood 

Still shouts the inspiring sea. — Lowell 

38. Are you really prepared to determine, but not to hear, the 
mighty cause upon which hang a nation's hopes and fears ? You are ? 
then beware of your decision ! By all you hold most dear, — by all 



258 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the ties that bind every one of us to our common order and our com- 
mon country, I solemnly adjure you, — I warn you, — I implore you, 
— yea, on my bended knees I supplicate you, — reject not this bill! 

Lord Brougham 

39. Signior Antonio, many a time and oft 
In the Rialto you have rated me 
About my moneys and my usances : 
Still have I borne it with a patient shrug, 
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. 
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, 
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, 
And all for use of that which is mine own. 
Well then, it now appears you need my help : 
Go to, then; you come to me, and you say 

" Shylock, we would have moneys " : you say so; 
You, that did void your rheum upon my beard 
And foot me as you spurn a stranger cur 
Over your threshold : moneys is your suit. 
What should I say to you ? Should I not say 
" Hath a dog money ? is it possible 
A cur can lend three thousand ducats ? " 

Shakespeare 

40. Filial Piety 

Filial love — the morality, the instinct, the sacrament of nature — 
a duty ; or, rather let me say, it is miscalled a duty, for it flows from 
the heart without effort — its delight — its indulgence — its enjoy- 
ment ! It is guided not by the slow dictates of reason ; it awaits not 
encouragement from reflection or from thought ; it asks no aid of 
memory ; it is innate but active consciousness of having been the 
object of a thousand solicitudes, a thousand waking, watchful cares, 
of meek anxiety and patient sacrifices, unremarked and unrequited 
by the object. It is gratitude founded upon a conviction of obliga- 
tions not remembered, but the more binding because not remem- 
bered, because conferred before the tender reason could acknowledge 
or the infant memory record them — a gratitude and affection which 
no circumstances should subdue, and which few can strengthen — a 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 259 

gratitude in which even injury from the object, though it may blend 
regret, should never breed resentment — - and affection which can be 
increased only by the decay of those to whom we owe it — then 
most fervent when the tremulous voice of age, resisting in its 
feebleness, inquires for the natural protectors of its cold decline. 

41. And now, go bring your sharpest torments. The woes I see 
impending over this guilty realm shall be enough to sweeten death, 
though every nerve and artery were a shooting pang. I die! but 
my death shall prove a proud triumph ; and, for every drop of 
blood ye from my veins do draw, your own shall flow in rivers. 
Woe to thee, Carthage ! Woe to the proud city of the waters ! I see 
thy nobles wailing at the feet of Roman senators ! . . . I hear the 
victorious shouts of Rome ! I see her eagles glittering on her ram- 
parts. Proud city, thou art doomed ! The curse of Jove is on thee 
— a clinging, wasting curse. It shall not leave thy gates till hungry 
flames shall lick the fretted gold from off thy proud palaces, and 
every brook runs crimson to the sea. — Kellogg 

42. Oceans of horse-hair, continents of parchment, cannot make 
unjust just. The grand question still remains, Was the judgment 
just? If unjust it will not and cannot get harbor for itself, or con- 
tinue to get footing in this Universe, which was made by other than 
One Unjust. Enforce it by never such statuting, three readings, 
royal assents ; blow it to the four winds with all manner of quilted 
trumpeters, in the rear of them never so many gibbets and hangmen, 
it will not stand, it cannot stand. From all souls of men, from all 
ends of Nature, from the Throne of God above, there are voices 
bidding it Away, away ! Does it take no warning ; does it stand, 
strong in its three readings, in its gibbets and artillery parks ? The 
more woe is to it, the frightfuller woe. It will continue standing, 
for its day, for its year, for its century, doing evil all the while ; but 
it has One enemy who is Almighty : dissolution, explosion, and the 
everlasting Laws of Nature incessantly advance towards it ; and the 
deeper its rooting, more obstinate its continuing, the deeper also and 
huger will its ruin and overturn be. — Carlyle 

43. In this God's world, with its wild whirling eddies and mad 
foam-oceans, where men and nations perish as if without law, and 



260 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

judgment for an unjust thing is sternly delayed, dost thou think that 
there is therefore no justice ? It is what the fool has said in his heart. 
It is what the wise, in all times, were wise because they denied, and 
knew forever not to be. I tell thee again, there is nothing else but jus- 
tice. One strong thing I find here below : the just thing, the true thing. 

My friend, if thou hadst all the artillery of Woolwich trundling at 
thy back in support of an unjust thing, and infinite bonfires visibly 
waiting ahead of thee, to blaze centuries long for thy victory in 
behalf of it, I would advise thee to call halt, to fling down thy baton, 
and say, " In God's name, No ! " 

Thy ft success " ? Poor fellow, what will thy success amount to ? 
If the thing is unjust, thou hast not succeeded ; no, not though 
bonfires blazed from North to South, and bells rang, and editors 
wrote leading articles, and the just thing lay trampled out of sight, 
to all mortal eyes an abolished and annihilated thing. 

Success? In a few years thou wilt be dead and dark, — all cold, 
eyeless, deaf ; no blaze of bonfires, ding-dong of bells or leading arti- 
cles visible or audible to thee again at all, forever. What kind of 
success is that ? 

It is true all goes by approximation in this world ; with any not 
insupportable approximation we must be patient. There is a noble 
Conservatism as well as an ignoble. Would to heaven for the sake 
of Conservatism itself, the noble alone were left and the ignoble, by 
some kind, severe hand, were ruthlessly lopped away, forbidden 
evermore to show itself ! For it is the right and noble alone that 
will have victory in this struggle ; the rest is wholly an obstruction, 
a postponement and fearful imperilment of the victory. Towards an 
eternal center of right and nobleness, and of that only, is all this 
confusion tending ; what will have victory, what will have none ! 
The Heaviest will reach the center. The heaviest, sinking through 
complex media and vortices, has its deflections, its obstructions, nay, 
at times its resiliences, its reboundings ; whereupon some blockhead 
shall be heard jubilating, " See, your Heaviest ascends ! " — but at 
all moments it is moving centreward, fast as it is convenient for it : 
sinking, sinking; and, by laws older than the World, old as the 
Maker's first plan of the World, it has to arrive there. 

Await the issue. In all battles, if you await the issue, each fighter 
has prospered according to his right. His might and his right, at the 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 261 

close of the account, were one and the same. He has fought with 
all his might, and in exact proportion to all his right he has prevailed. 
His very death is no victory over him. He dies indeed ; but his 
work lives, very truly lives. 

A heroic Wallace, quartered on the scaffold, cannot hinder that 
his Scotland become, one day, a part of England ; but he does hin- 
der that it become, on tyrannous, unfair terms, a part of it ; com- 
mands still, as with a God's voice, from his old Valhalla and Temple 
of the Brave, that there be a just, real union, as of brother and 
brother, not a false and merely semblant one as of slave and master. 
If the union with England be in fact one of Scotland's chief bless- 
ings, we thank Wallace withal that it was not the chief curse. Scot- 
land is not Ireland : no, because brave men rose there and said : 
y Behold, ye must not tread us down like slaves ; and ye shall not, 
and cannot ! " 

Fight on, thou brave true heart, and falter not, through dark for- 
tune and through bright. The cause thou fightest for, so far as it is 
true, no further, yet precisely so far, is very sure of victory. The 
falsehood alone of it will be conquered, will be abolished, as it ought 
to be: but the truth of it is part of nature's own laws, cooperates 
with the World's eternal tendencies, and cannot be conquered. 

The dust of controversy, what is it but the falsehood flying off 
from all manner of conflicting true forces, and making such a loud 
dust-whirlwind, — that so the truths alone may remain, and embrace 
brother-like in some true resulting-force ! It is ever so. Savage 
fighting Heptarchies ; their fighting is an ascertainment, who has 
the right to rule over whom ; that out of such waste-bickering Sax- 
ondom a peacefully cooperating England may arise. Seek through 
the universe ; if with other than owl's eyes, thou wilt find nothing 
nourished there, nothing kept in life, but what has right to nourish- 
ment and life. The rest, look at it with other than owl's eyes, is not 
living; is all dying, all as good as dead ! Justice was ordained from the 
foundations of the World ; and will last with the World and longer. 

Carlyle 

44. Cromwell manufactured his own army. Napoleon, at the age 
of twenty-seven, was placed at the head of the best troops Europe 
ever saw. Cromwell never saw an army till he was forty ; this man 
never saw a soldier till he was fifty. — Phillips 



262 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 



45. My Talent 

I have a talent. What is it ? Let me unroll the napkin and look 
at it. 

Before we can truly live, we must study out our peculiar power 
or gift. Cultivate self, for to neglect self is real selfishness. To 
cultivate self is selfhood. 

Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control, — 
These three alone lead life to sovereign power. 

Are you asking, "How can I know my aptitude?" I answer, 
Stand off and watch yourself. A blacksmith watched himself and 
found that he had a quick eye for color. Soon he was earning 
double wages by sharpening drills for quarrymen. A clerk watched 
himself. He found he had a delicate sense of touch in woolen goods, 
and soon he was making his fortune as a buyer of woolens. A 
surgeon watched himself. He found he had a peculiarly sensitive 
finger. Soon he became an expert in diagnosis through the sense of 
touch. These were not accidents. Many a person has a sense of 
color, of touch, of proportion, of time, yet will always be ct bound 
in shallows and in miseries," because he never discovers and uses 
that peculiar gift. 

Shame on the youth who in this golden age refuses to be the 
Columbus of his own resources ! If Helen Keller, deaf, dumb, and 
blind, could discover herself, why not every one? There is but one 
obstacle. 

Every one of sound mind and heart is in demand. He who mopes 
and whines, accusing the rich of cheating him out of a living, is 
a disgrace to society. Energy and determination count for as much 
to-day as ever. Every one has a chance. The will is still master. 

The next time you hear a Beethoven symphony, remember that 
its author was deaf when he wrote it. When you pass a statue of 
Franklin, remember he was once a poor printer's devil whose highest 
luxury was to eat a penny roll on the streets of Philadelphia. 

The trouble with this age is that knowledge comes too easily. We 
do not have to hammer out our destiny upon the forge of adversity. 
How did you learn your multiplication table? As Biddle did with 
peas and marbles and a bag of shot, till he learned it up to a million ? 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 263 

As Murray did, who made a pen for himself out of a stem of 
heather, sharpened it in the fire, and used a worn-out wool card for 
a copybook ? 

Go back a hundred years to Glasgow and watch the glover's 
apprentice at night, too poor to buy a candle, standing reading in 
the street by the light in a shop window. Out goes the light. He 
moves to another window. Out goes the light. He moves to another 
window. He is driven from window to window until all the shop- 
keepers are in bed. Then he climbs a lamp-post, holding on with 
one hand while he grasps his book with the other. That boy 
becomes the. greatest scholar in Scotland. Remember that. 

Remember, nothing can stand before him who knows his powers 
and sharpens them as best he can. 

A craven hung along the battle's edge 

And thought, " Had I a sword of keener steel — 

That blue blade that the king's son bears — but this 

Blunt thing ! " Pie snapped and flung it from his hand, 

And, lowering, crept away and left the field. 

Then came the king's son, wounded, sore bestead 

And weaponless, and saw the broken sword, 

Ililt buried in the dry and trodden sand, 

And ran and snatched it, and with battle shout 

Lifted afresh, he hewed his enemy down, 

And saved a great cause that heroic day. 

Cochran in The Young People s Weekly 



46. A Laughing Chorus 

Oh, such a commotion under the ground 

When March called, ?t Ho, there ! ho ! " 
Such spreading of rootlets far and wide, 

Such whispering to and fro. 
And cc Are you ready? " the Snowdrop asked; 

ct 'T is time to start, you know." 
"Almost, my dear," the Scilla replied; 

ct I '11 follow as soon as you go." 
Then, " Ha ! ha ! ha ! " a chorus came 

Of laughter soft and low 



264 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

From the millions of flowers under the ground — 
Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

" I'll promise my blossoms," the crocus said, 

" When I hear the bluebirds sing." 
And straight thereafter Narcissus cried, 

ct My silver and gold I '11 bring." 
And the violet only murmured, " I'm here," 

And sweet grew the breath of spring. 
Then, ct Ha ! ha ! ha ! " a chorus came 

Of laughter sweet and low 
From the millions of flowers under the ground — 

Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

Oh, the pretty, brave things ! through the coldest days, 

Imprisoned in walls of brown, 
They never lost heart, though the blast shrieked loud, 

And the sleet and the hail came down, 
But patiently each wrought her beautiful dress, 

Or fashioned her beautiful crown ; 
And now they are coming to brighten the world, 

Still shadowed by winter's frown ; 
And well may they cheerily laugh, "Ha! ha ! " 

In a chorus soft and low, 
The millions of flowers hid under the ground — 

Yes — millions — beginning to grow. 

From " Nature in Verse " 
Silver, Burdett a?id Company, Publishers 



47. The year 's at the spring 

And day 's at the morn ; 
Morning 's at seven ; 
The hillside 's dew-pearled ; 
The lark 's on the wing ; 
The snail 's on the thorn : 
God 's in his heaven — 
All 's right with the world ! 

Brownkng in " Pippa Passes" 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 265 

48. Oh, to be in England 
Now that April 's there, 

And whoever wakes in England 

Sees, some morning, unaware, 

That the lowest boughs and the brush-wood sheaf 

Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, 

While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough 

In England — now ! 

And after April, when May follows, 

And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows ! 

Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge 

Leans to the field and scatters on the clover 

Blossoms and dewdrops — at the bent spray's edge — 

That 's the wise thrush ; he sings each song twice over, 

Lest you should think he never could recapture 

The first fine careless rapture ! 

And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, 

All will be gay when noontide wakes anew 

The buttercups, the little children's dower 

— Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower ! — Browning 

49. Day! 

Faster and more fast. 

O'er night's brim, day boils at last : 

Boils, pure gold, o'er the cloud-cup's brim 

Where spurting and suppressed it lay. 

For not a froth-flake touched the rim 

Of yonder gap in the solid gray 

Of the eastern cloud, an hour away ; 

But forth one wavelet, then another, curled. 

Till the whole sunrise, not to be suppressed. 

Rose, reddened, and its seething breast 

Flickered in bounds, grew gold, then overflowed the world. 

Oh Day, if I squander a wavelet of thee, 

A mite of my twelve-hours' treasure. 

The least of thy gazes or glances, 

(Be they grants thou art bound to or gifts above measure) 



266 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

One of thy choices or one of thy chances, 

(Be they tasks God imposed thee or freaks at thy pleasure) 

— My Day, if I squander such labor or leisure, 

Then shame fall on Asolo, mischief on me ! 

Browning in " Pippa Passes " 

50. Across the Fields to Anne 

Note. From Stratford-on-Avon a lane runs westward through the 
fields a mile to the little village of Shottery, in which is the cottage of 
Anne Hathaway, Shakespeare's sweetheart and wife. 

How often in the summer tide, 

His graver business set aside, 

Has stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed, 

As the pipe of Pan 

Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride 

Across the fields to Anne. 

It must have been a merry mile, 

This summer-stroll by hedge and stile, 

With sweet foreknowledge all the while 

How sure the pathway ran 

To dear delights of kiss and smile, 

Across the fields to Anne. 

The silly sheep that graze to-day, 

I wot, they let him go his way, 

Nor once looked up as who should say, 

" It is a seemly man." 

For many lads went wooing aye 

Across the fields to Anne. 

The oaks, they have a wiser look ; 

Mayhap they whispered to the brook : 

" The world by him shall yet be shook, 

It is in nature's plan • 

Though now he fleets like any rook 

Across the fields to Anne. 

And I am sure, that on some hour 

Coquetting soft 'twixt sun and shower, 

He stooped and broke a daisy-flower 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 267 

With heart of tiny span, 

And bore it as a lover's dower 

Across the fields to Anne. 

While from her cottage garden-bed 

She plucked a jasmine's goodlihede, 

To scent his jerkin's brown instead ; 

Now since that love began, 

What luckier swain than he who sped 

Across the fields to Anne. 

The winding path whereon I pace, 

The hedgerows green, the summer's grace, 

Are still before me face to face ; 

Methinks I almost can 

Turn poet and join the singing race 

Across the fields to Anne. — Richard Burton 

Copyright, Lothrop, Lee and Shepard Company. Reprinted by permission 



51. Green Things Growing 

The green things growing, the green things growing, 
The faint sweet smell of the green things growing ! 
I should like to live, whether I smile or grieve, 
Just to watch the happy life of my green things growing. 

Oh the fluttering and the pattering of those green things growing ! 

How they talk each to each, when none of us are knowing, 

In the wonderful white of the weird moonlight 

Of the dim dreamy dawn when the cocks are crowing. 

I love, I love them so — my green things growing ! 
And I think that they love me, without false showing ; 
For by many a tender touch, they comfort me so much, 
With the soft mute comfort of green things growing. 

And in the rich store of their blossoms glowing, 
Ten for one I take they 're on me bestowing ; 
Oh, I should like to see, if God's will it may be, 
Many, many a summer of my green things growing. 



268 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

But if I must be gathered for the angels* sowing, 
Sleep out of sight awhile, like the green things growing, 
Though dust to dust return, I think I "11 scarcely mourn, 
If I may change into green things growing. — Craik 



52. Eloquence 

When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, 
when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing 
is valuable in speech further than it is connected with high intellectual 
and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the 
qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does 
not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and 
learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases 
may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It 
must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. 

Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all 
may aspire to it ; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, 
like the outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting 
forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, native, original force. The 
graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied con- 
trivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, 
and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on 
the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric 
is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself 
then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. 

Then patriotism is eloquent ; then self-devotion is eloquent. The 
clear conception, outrunning deductions of logic, the high purpose, 
the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beam- 
ing from the eye, informing every feature, and urging the whole 
man onward, right onward to his object, — this, this is eloquence ; 
or rather it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, — it 
is action, noble, sublime, god-like action. — Webster 

53. A Day in June 

Just a simple day in June ! 

Heart and hope and heaven in tune. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 269 

Life a lute-string throbbing low ; 
Death, so far, none ever know ; 
And a mind that drinks delight 
From each bloom and sunbeam bright. 
In the soul a peace so vast 
All the irksome ills that pain, 
All the taints of greedy gain, 
All the sins that burn and stain, 
There to sleep till they shall wake 
When some dark to-morrow break. 
Woods alive with wooing song, 
Where the shadows linger long ; 
Fields awake with waving grain, 
Where the sunlight long has lain ; 
Home and roadway, stream and sky, 
Showing somehow love is nigh, 
And the heart so full and free, 
Naught there seems save liberty, 
All things breathing forth the boon 
Of a simple day in June. 

C. W. Stevenson in the Outing Magazine 

Reprinted by permissioit of publishers 

54. The Rhodora 

(On being asked, Whence is this flower ?) 

In May, when sea-winds pierced our solitudes, 
I found the fresh Rhodora in the woods 
Spreading its leafless blooms in a damp nook, 
To please the desert and the sluggish brook : 
The purple petals fallen in the pool 

Made the black waters with their beauty gay ; 
Here might the red-bird come his plumes to cool. 

And court the flower that cheapens his array. 
Rhodora ! if the sages ask thee why 
This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky, 
Dear, tell them, that if eyes were made for seeing, 
Then Beauty is its own excuse for being. 



270 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose ! 

I never thought to ask, I never knew ; 
But in my simple ignorance ; suppose 

The selfsame Power that brought me there brought 

y° u - Emerson 

5 5 . Columbus 

Behind him lay the gray Azores, 

Behind the Gates of Hercules ; 
Before him not the ghost of shores, 

Before him only shoreless seas. 
The good mate said : " Now must we pray, 

For lo ! the very stars are gone. 
Brave Admiral, speak, what shall I say ? " 

" Why, say, c Sail on ! sail on ! and on ! ' " 

" My men grow mutinous day by day ; 

My men grow ghastly wan and weak." 
The stout mate thought of home ; a spray 

Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. 
" What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, 

If we sight naught but seas at dawn? " 
tf Why, you shall say at break of day, 

f Sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! and on ! ' " 

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, 

Until at last the blanched mate said : 
" Why, now not even God would know 

Should I and all my men fall dead. 
These very winds forget their way, 

For God from these dread seas is gone. 
Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say " — 

He said, ft Sail on ! sail on ! and on ! " 

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate : 
" This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. 

He curls his lip, he lies in wait. 
With lifted teeth, as if to bite ! 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 271 

Brave Admiral, say but one good word : 

What shall we do when hope is gone ? " 

The words leapt like a leaping sword : 

" Sail on ! sail on ! sail on ! and on ! " 

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, 

And peered through darkness. Ah, that night 
Of all dark nights ! And then a speck — 

A light ! A light ! A light ! A light ! 
It grew, a starlit flag unfurled ! 

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn. 
He gained a world ; he gave that world 

Its grandest lesson : " On ! sail on ! " 

Joaquin Miller 
Published by the Wliitaker Ray Cornfia?ty, San Francisco 



56. The Coming of Arthur 

Leodogran, the king of Cameliard, 
Had one fair daughter, and none other child ; 
And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, 
Guinevere, and in her his one delight. 

For many a petty king ere Arthur came 
Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war 
Each upon other, wasted all the land : 
And still from time to time the heathen host 
Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was left. 
And so there grew great tracts of wilderness, 
. Wherein the beast was ever more and more, 
But man was less and less. . . . 

And thus the land of Cameliard was waste, 
Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein, 
And none or few to scare or chase the beast ; 
So that wild dog, and wolf and boar and bear 
Came night and day, and rooted in the fields, 
And wallow'd in the gardens of the King. . . . 



272 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

And King Leodogran 
Groan'd for the Roman legions here again, 
And Caesar's eagle. . . . 
He knew not whither he should turn for aid. 

But — for he heard of Arthur newly crown'd - 
. . . the King 
Sent to him, saying, "Arise, and help us thou ! 
For here between the man and beast we die." 

And Arthur yet had done no deed of arms, 
But heard the call, and came : and Guinevere 
Stood by the castle walls to watch him pass ; 
But since he neither wore on helm or shield 
The golden symbol of his kinglihood, 
But rode a simple knight among his knights, 
And many of these in richer arms than he, 
She saw him not, or mark 'd not, if she saw, 
One among many, tho' his face was bare. 
But Arthur, looking downward as he past, 
Felt the light of her eyes into his life 
Smite on the sudden, yet rode on, and pitch'd 
His tents beside the forest. Then he drave 
The heathen ; after, slew the beast, and fell'd 
The forest, letting in the sun, and made 
Broad pathways for the hunter and the knight 
And so return'd. 

For while he linger d there, 
A doubt that ever smoulder'd in the hearts 
Of those great Lords and Barons of his realm 
Flash'd forth and into war : for most of these, 
Colleaguing with a score of petty kings, 
Made head against him, crying, "Who is he 
That he should rule us ? who hath proven him 
King Uther's son ? " . 

And Arthur, passing thence to battle, felt 
Travail, and throes and agonies of the life, 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 273 

Desiring to be join'd with Guinevere ; 
And thinking as he rode, " Her father said 
That there between the man and beast they die. 
Shall I not lift her from this land of beasts 
Up to my throne, and side by side with me ? 
What happiness to reign a lonely king ? . . . 

tc But were I join'd with her, 
Then might we live together as one life, 
And reigning with one will in everything 
Have power on this dark land to lighten it, 
And power on this dead world to make it live." . . . 

When Arthur reach'd a field-of-battle bright 
With pitch'd pavilions of his foe, the world 
Was all so clear about him, that he saw 
The smallest rock far on the faintest hill, 
And even in high day the morning star. . . . 

But the Powers who walk the world 
Made lightnings and great thunders over him, 
And dazed all eyes, till Arthur by main might, 
And mightier of his hands with every blow, 
And leading all his knighthood threw the kings. . . . 
So like a painted battle the war stood 
Silenced, the living quiet as the dead, 
And in the heart of Arthur joy was lord. . . . 

Then quickly from the foughten field he sent 
Sir Bedivere to King Leodogran, 
Saying. " : If I in aught have served thee well, 
Give me thy daughter Guinevere to wife." 

Whom when he heard, Leodogran in heart 
Debating — " How should I that am a king, 
However much he holp me at my need. 
Give my one daughter saving to a king. 



274 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

And a king's son ? " — lifted his voice, and called 

A hoary man, his chamberlain, to whom 

He trusted all things, and of him required 

His counsel : " Knowest thou aught of Arthur's birth ? ' 

Then while the King debated with himself, 

. . . there came to Cameliard . . . 
Lot's wife, the Queen of Orkney, Bellicent ; 

Whom the King 

Made feast for, saying, as they sat at meat, . . . 
" Ye come from Arthur's court. Victor his men 
Report him ! Yea, but ye — think ye this king — 
So many those that hate him, and so strong, 
So few his knights, however brave they be — 
Hath body enow to hold his foemen down? " 

ft O King," she cried, "and I will tell thee : few, 
4 Few, but all brave, all of one mind with him ; 
For I was near him when the savage yells 
Of Uther's peerage died, and Arthur sat 
Crown'd on the dais, and his warriors cried, 
f Be thou the king, and we will work thy will 
Who love thee.' Then the King in low deep tones, 
And simple words of great authority, 
Bound them by so strait vows to his own self, 
That when they rose, knighted from kneeling, some 
Were pale as at the passing of a ghost, 
Some flush'd, and others dazed, as one who wakes 
Half-blinded at the coming of a light. 

" But when he spake and cheer'd his Table Round 
With large, divine, and comfortable words, 
Beyond my tongue to tell thee — I beheld 
From eye to eye thro' all their Order flash 
A momentary likeness of the King. . . . 

" And there I saw mage Merlin, whose vast wit 
And hundred winters are but as the hands 
Of loyal vassals toiling for their liege. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 275 

?t And near him stood the Lady of the Lake, 
Who knows a subtler magic than his own — 
Clothed in white samite, mystic, wonderful. 
She gave the King his huge cross-hilted sword, 
Whereby to drive the heathen out : a mist 
Of incense curl'd about her, and her face 
Wellnigh was hidden in the minster gloom ; 
But there was heard among the holy hymns 
A voice as of the waters, for she dwells 
Down in a deep ; calm, whatsoever storms 
May shake the world, and when the surface rolls, 
Hath power to walk the waters like our Lord." . . . 

Thereat Leodogran rejoiced, but thought 
To sift his doubtings to the last, and ask'd, 
Fixing full eyes of question on her face, 
" The swallow and the swift are near akin, 
But thou art closer to this noble prince, 
Being his own dear sister." . . . 

ct What know I ? 
For dark my mother was in eyes and hair, 
And dark in hair and eyes am I ; . . . 

. . . yea and dark was Uther too, 
Wellnigh to blackness ; but this King is fair 
Beyond the race of Britons and of men. . . . 

" But let me tell thee now another tale : 

... on the night 
When V ther in Tintagil past away 
Moaning and wailing for an heir, Merlin 
Left the still King, and passing forth to breathe, . . . 
Beheld, so high upon the dreary deeps 
It seem'd in heaven, a ship, the shape thereof 
A dragon wing'd, and all from stem to stern 
Bright with a shining people on the decks, 
And gone as soon as seen. . . . : 

He watch'd the great sea fall, 
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last, 



276 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep 

And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged 

Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame : 

And down the wave and in the flame was borne 

A naked babe, and rode to Merlin's feet, 

Who stoopt and caught the babe, and cried, " The King ! ' 

And presently thereafter follow' d calm, 

Free sky and stars : "And this same child," he said, 

Cf Is he who reigns." . . . 

And ever since the lords 
Have foughten like wild beasts among themselves, 
So that the realm has gone to wrack : but now, 
This year, when Merlin (for his hour had come) 
Brought Arthur forth, and set him in the hall, 
Proclaiming, " Here is Uther's heir, your king," 
A hundred voices cried, " Away with him ! 
No king of ours ! " . . . 

Yet Merlin thro' his craft, 
And while the people clamour'd for a king, 
Had Arthur crown'd ; but after, the great lords 
Banded, and so brake out in open war. 

. . . and Merlin in our time 
Hath spoken also, . . . 

Tho' men may wound him that he will not die, 
But pass, again to come ; and then or now 
Utterly smite the heathen underfoot, 
Till these and all men hail him for their king. 

... King Leodogran rejoiced, 
But musing " Shall I answer yea or nay ? " 
Doubted, and drowsed, nodded and slept, and saw, 
Dreaming, a slope of land that ever grew, 
Field after field, up to a height, the peak 
Haze-hidden, and thereon a phantom king, 
Now looming, and now lost ; and on the slope 
The sword rose, the hind fell, the herd was driven, 
Fire glimpsed ; and all the land from roof and rick, 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 277 

In drifts of smoke before a rolling wind, 
Stream'd to the peak, and mingled with the haze 
And made it thicker ; while the phantom king 
Sent out at times a voice ; and here or there 
Stood one who pointed toward the voice, the rest 
Slew on and burnt, crying, " No king of ours, 
No son of Uther, and no king of ours " ; 
Till with a wink his dream was changed, the haze 
Descended, and the solid earth became 
' As nothing, but the King stood out in heaven, 
Crown'd. And Leodogran awoke, and sent . . . 
Back to the court of Arthur answering yea. 

Then Arthur charged his warrior whom he loved 
And honour'd most. Sir Lancelot, to ride forth 
And bring the Queen ; — and watch'd him from the gates : 
And Lancelot past away among the flowers, 
(For then was latter April) and return'd 
Among the flowers, in May, with Guinevere. 
To whom arrived, by Dubric the high saint, 
Chief of the church in Britain, and before 
The stateliest of her altar-shrines, the King 
That morn was married, while in stainless white, 
The fair beginners of a nobler time, 
And glorying in their vows and him, his knights 
Stood round him, and rejoicing in his joy. 
Far shone the fields of May thro' open door, 
The sacred altar blossornd white with May, 
The sun of M^y descended on their King, 
They gazed on all earth's beauty in their Queen, 
Roll'd incense, and there past along the hymns 
A voice as of the waters, while the two 
Sware at the shrine of Christ a deathless love : 
And Arthur said, " Behold, thy doom is mine. 
Let chance what will, I love thee to the death ! " 
To whom the Queen replied with drooping eyes, 
" King and my lord, I love thee to the death ! " yS 
And holy Dubric spread his hands and spake, 



278 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" Reign ye, and live and love, and make the world 
Other, and may thy Queen be one with thee, 
And all this Order of thy Table Round 
Fulfil the boundless purpose of their King ! " . . . 
And Arthur's knighthood sang before the King : — 

" Blow trumpet, for the world is white with May ; 
Blow trumpet, the long night hath roll'd away ! 
Blow thro' the living world — c Let the King reign.' 

?t Shall Rome or Heathen rule in Arthur's realm ? 
Flash brand and lance, fall battleaxe upon helm, 
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand ! Let the King reign. 

" Strike for the King and live ! his knights have heard 
That God hath told the King a secret word. 
Fall battleaxe and flash brand ! Let the King reign. . . . 

" Strike for the King and die ! and if thou diest, 
The King is King, and ever wills the highest. 
Clang battleaxe, and clash brand ! Let the King reign. . . . 

" The King will follow Christ, and we the King 
In whom high God hath breathed a secret thing. 
Fall battleaxe, and flash brand ! Let the King reign." . . . 

And Arthur and his knighthood for a space 
Were all one will, and thro' that strength the King 
Drew in the petty princedoms under him, 
Fought, and in twelve great battles overcame 
The heathen hordes, and made a realm and reign'd. 

Adapted from TENNYSON in " Idylls of the King ' 

{Arrangement used in the Leland Powers School of the Spoken Word) 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 279 



57. " The Young Lawyer" 1 

Mr. Toastmaster, Ladies, Fellow Practitioners, and Yoimg Law- 
yers : I feel that I need no introduction to the lawyers of America. 
In this distinguished company I feel assured that I do not speak in 
a stranger's voice — but in my own. For many years my name has 
been a household word — among the members of my own family. 
Whether the premonitory rumbles of coming greatness have pre- 
vented me here, I know not. In my own state I am not known 
solely as a lawyer. My fame is also titular : I am called " judge " by 
the obsequious office boy, and by the janitor — ft where thrift may 
follow fawning." But my preeminence rests on no firmer foundation 
than authorship of a work upon an important legal subject. And in 
justice to myself and my state I must say that I owe my juristic rank, 
and such name and fame as I bear, to my " domestic relations." 

It would be superfluous for me to say that this is the happiest 
moment of my life, because it is — not. After-dinner speaking is an 
effort to appear at ease and happy, though fearful and tumultuous. 
It is, indeed, an unusual accomplishment. It is the patti-de-foi-gras 
of oratory, — a conditional rather than a normal mode of expression. 
The archetype of the art is the impromptu speech. It is often an 
unplumed squab for flight, and heavy with tf the stuff that dreams 
are made of" — the art that's long when time is fleeing. It attains 
its perfection ex post facto, or retroactively ; that is, after the ban- 
quet hall 's deserted, and the speaker is homeward bound alone. 
How pregnant then and cheerful are the words of philosophy : 
Sweet are the uses of — retrospection. 

Upon this occasion I urge no claim to off-hand powers of elo- 
quence. I cannot say, and it would be vain for me to assert, that 
this is an extemporaneous effort. The weight of internal evidence 
would crush the contention : and the faithful years of laborious 
preparation would shrink aghast at such wild asseveration, and put 
to shame my base ingratitude. On the contrary, behold in me the 
sophomoric apostle of the midnight oil — a sedentary sacrifice to a / 
young life's masterpiece ! 

^r^ Bar 
1 An after-dinner speech delivered at the dinner of the / ~* 

Association. 1906. 




280 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

From the lawyers of Texas I come — unarmed — bringing to 
you the message of civilization. Without hope of reward, and with- 
out fear of recognition, I have come to lend the charm of high pro- 
fessional character, and impart tone to this meeting. It is not to 
me, however, that your thanks are due for my presence here. It was . 
my brethren of the bar that sent me on this mission, conscious of 
its perils. I will not shield them. It was they that did command and 
hasten my departure hither, with the classic Spartan adjuration, 
Go ; come back with your nerve, or on it ! 

Gentlemen, I am a modest man, as all men are that say they are. 
And my chief characteristic, aside from physical pulchritude, is can- 
dor ; that is, I am a blunt man even to the point of dullness. Yet I 
clearly see that there is a duty devolving upon those of us who have 
attained the heights, to cast benign glances upon the young lawyers 
struggling in the valley below. For at last the young lawyer is the 
hope of the profession, as he is the despair of the trial judge. 

This evening I shall not shirk my grave responsibility. I shall 
" a round unvarnished tale deliver," concretely presenting the sub- 
ject in static and dynamic aspects, and, undertaking to impress upon 
the young lawyers the lessons to be drawn from the careers of the 
eminent men who adorn our profession. And this notwithstanding 
the fact that I must speak of myself, — a part of my practice which 
I have always had the tenacity and good fortune to hold. 

From childhood my favorite form of composition has been auto- 
biography. I despise shams and pretenses. A man should be what 
he is, and say what he is. I do not pretend to be a great lawyer — I . 
am! Is it come to pass, forsooth, that greatness is a mocker) 7 ? In 
these untoward days must we needs forswear our fundamental con- 
victions ? Not I, gentlemen. My position is sustained by the highest 
authority in the land. Without specific citation I refer you to my 
own edition of " Parents' Reports " for the leading case upon which 
I rely, styled " Our boy against the world," announcing the doc- 
trine so dear to the young lawyer as the bulwark of his premature 
renown, — the elemental principle, so tenderly expressed by the fire- 
side poet, Whatever mother says is right. 
. A.nd yet I was once a young lawyer. And to-day I love the young 
'•even as I do myself ; and all I shall say will proceed from 
e to do him good. I am neither " case " hardened nor 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 28 1 

embittered by multiplicity of suits. I shall be cruel only to be bright. 
My sympathies are broad and deep ; yet I can look upon him in the 
" dry light " of science — dispassionately and without asperity. So 
to-night I shall lay aside all distinctions and treat them as if equals. 

The young lawyer exults in logic and analysis — he defies them 
both. Let us contemplate him. He may be described as the genus 
ho7no impoi'tans — t! deep on whose front engraven deliberation sits 
and public care." He is res tota, — in the modern tongue, " the whole 
works." He is great in persona rather than in rem or in rebus. Ac- 
cording to experienced trial judges the young lawyer is a contradic- 
tion in terms, yet a necessary evil, whose chief function is to grow 
older. Like the law he is a process, not a completed product, — 
university diplomas notwithstanding. In judicial opinion he is obiter 
dictum. Among lawyers he is sui generis — a sort of difference 
without — a distinction. The jurists appear to concede that he exists 
by presumption of law, and the weight of authority seems to be 
that he thrives by presumption in fact. He can scarcely be said to 
come within the purview of the laity ; his name loometh large on 
his own sign to the public. It shineth from afar — and very faintly. 
He is not expressly classified among the public utilities, but he no 
doubt has his place ; the difficulty is to find it. His sphere is coex- 
tensive with that ascribed by Lord Brougham to the law of England, 

— tr to get twelve men in a box " — and jam down the lid ! 

He is a peripatetic institution of learning, dedicated to his own 
glorification, endowed with majestic powers of his own imagining, 
and founded upon the three cardinal virtues, faith, hope, and charity, 

— faith in his own infinite knowledge, hope for the obtuseness of 
judges and juries, and charity for the older lawyers who have all the 
business ; and the greatest of these is faith. 

He disdains to shine by reflected effulgence. He is a legal light 
in, and unto, himself, only waiting to be extinguished. To him law 
and abstract justice are the same. He is long on theory and short 
on practice. With him "knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers." 
And until he realizes that men and all human institutions are mere 
approximations to perfection, and that good and evil alike are 
persistent forces, with juridical tf eye in fine frenzy rolling " he 
crouches in his lair, like a fierce giraffe, ready to leap, upon quixotic 
provocation, to right the wrongs of an erring world. And be it said 



282 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

to his honor that he stands peerless and transcendent in the domain 
of " Buffalo Jurisprudence " and !r Kangaroo Procedure." 

I have never talked to a young lawyer that did not " out-Herod 
Herod " for prosperity. It is not with him an occasional or acute 
attack, but a chronic condition. As a young lawyer I had more 
business than I could have attended to in sixty years, and the mag- 
nitude of my income was incredible. But as I grew older, the law 
somewhat fell in disrepute with clients, and my coffers contained 
naught but :t intangible assets." 

The lawyer should know everything — the young lawyer does. 
If the old lawyer knows most, the young lawyer knows best. It is 
no trouble for him to tell what the law is — it is rather a surprise. 
But the evil day cometh apace when, "with assurance doubly sure" 
and stride triumphant, he marches into court with his first case ; and, 
enveloped in the darkness of his own pleadings, he falls into the 
clutches of the grisly old gorilla, General Demurrer. Let us not 
paint the pathetic picture, nor voice the lamentation. 

The young lawyer is gregarious, — he cometh in flocks. But 
tremble not, friends, at the annual increase of competitors, for many 
young lawyers are called, few deliver the "merchandise." To the 
established practitioner the situation is not hopeless, but has its 
compensations. Let us be just, for we know that the young lawyer 
is a valuable litigious asset. And, furthermore, whether we agree 
that the law is an exact science or not, we know that it has a sort of 
certainty that often amounts to fatality ; and that, while its policy is 
to put an end to litigation, its practice puts an end to young lawyers, 
thus establishing in the profession a subtle relation of equilibrium 
between genesis and exodus. Also let us be generous. And when 
the young lawyer feels that his place is precarious, and that his 
talents are not appreciated, and that everything is against him, let us 
exhort him to brace up, have courage, and be firm ; for conditions 
will change and probably get — worse. And, my dear young friend, 
let me admonish you, in the melancholy hour and whatever may 
betide, to think always of the nobility and dignity of your profes- 
sion. Keep well in your own mind that you are a lawyer ; and some 
day perhaps the community will discover your secret. Make yourself 
agreeable to the old practitioners. Keep in touch with them. Im- 
press them with your significance, and with the fact that you have a 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 283 

college education. Let them know that you are a " coming " as well 
as a "going " concern. Tell them how well you are doing ; that you 
fight cases to a finish and never let up. Blow — even as the four 
winds ; they admire enthusiasm. Do equity by them ; withhold not 
the worst ; when you have lost a suit, go to them — pari passu. 
Regale them with the law of extenuating circumstances ; cover the 
subject — to the point of exhaustion. Try the case all over again 
for their refreshment. You may get another trial — if their opinion 
theretofore has been good they will probably set aside the judgment. 

Shun, as you would the pestilence, the evil spirit of commercial- 
ism in your professional conduct. Be not money-driven hirelings of a 
trade. I have heard that, in some sections of our country, lawyers 
have yielded to this sinister influence and have trailed the priceless 
standard of our calling in the golden dust, and have sacrificed our 
lofty traditions upon the altar of Mammon. Reluctantly though I 
confess it, I am reliably informed that lawyers in the large cities of 
the north and east have reduced the profession to a business ; that 
they boldly receive money for legal services, and actually earn from 
this source a comfortable livelihood. And some, more daring than 
the rest, are said in this doubtful manner to have acquired a for- 
tune. Coming as I do from a distant state, whose professional 
atmosphere is chaste and undefiled, I hesitate to believe the accusa- 
tion. And I may add, with pardonable pride, that never in my per- 
sonal experience at the Texas bar has such an ominous condition 
of affairs been known to exist. My own observation has been that 
in Texas the rich lawyer is a paradox ; and my conjecture has been 
that in other states he was a tr legal fiction." Yes, my friends, in 
good conscience I may aver that in the imperial state from which 
I come the law, like virtue, is its own reward — at least I have 
found it so. 

Esteem the law, thy mistress, the guardian angel of blind justice, 
and, by men's unthought appointment through the ages, her majestic 
voice and dread interpreter. She sits aloft on the rock-ribbed Mount 
of Right, — a peaceful virgin, frowning chaos and disorder down 
throughout the world. To stay the hand of reckless might and tur- 
bulence she reacheth forth; and higher yet to lift the blood-won 
standard of long-wakening man's humanity to man. From us she 's 
hid betimes in mist, and from her dim retreat 't is sport to watch 



284 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

us climb and stumble, fall and then again essay the height. There 
leads no path of dalliance to her bower ; to her favor winds the 
stubborn royal road of honor, courage, and devotion. With the 
largess of content that on the faithful she bestows, nor gold, nor 
regal purple, nor the " wealth of Ind," nor argosy with precious 
stones deep laden, e'en can vie ; all these are but the greedy gew- 
gaws of a life misused; against the tranquil balm which waits the 
seal of her approval. My friends, she is a stern mistress, "correctly 
cold," and never to be completely subdued. To the blandishments 
of the young man of wealth she usually giveth the "marble heart." 
For a soft income turneth away resolution, and dulleth the edge of 
endeavor. My comrades, let me warn you : do not fall under the 
ban — don't be a rich man's son. To a young lawyer there is no 
predicament more baleful and tragic — except to be a poor man's son. 
Develop generous impulses. It is to my keen sense of gratitude 
that I chiefly owe my present business relations. When the world 
was apprised, through the Associated Press, that I had procured 
license to practice law, the clamorous demands usually made for the 
services of the young lawyer by interests in large cities were directed 
toward me. But my father, who had sent me to school, I felt had 
some claims upon me. So I took no account of any of the inducements 
offered me. I went to my father and said : " You have educated me, 

— at least you think you have. I am grateful. You have an established 
practice ; you need me." And I proved it by taking him into part- 
nership. And I advise every young lawyer similarly situated to follow 
my example, especially if he has any reverence for the three graces, 

— food, shelter, and raiment. Censure me not for paternalism ; each 
to his own. But verily, to depend on our fathers is silver; to depend 
on ourselves is "brass." And, lest you have cause to lament with 
your client, I charge you fling away self-reliance, for by that sin fell 
the angels. 

May you always know the flush, but never the blush, of victory. 
And to this end remember that in our time under the statute de 
bonis asportatis you must not be "caught with the goods." 

You will no doubt make mistakes. The man that never makes 
mistakes never makes anything. And to the man of indomitable will 
nothing succeeds like failure. " Upon our dead selves as stepping 
stones we rise to higher things." I have traveled the road myself. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 285 

I want to see you successful. You have my best wishes ever. In 
your adversity my heart goes out to you ; in your prosperity — my 
hand. — F. Charles Hume 

From the Minneapolis Journal 



58. Wendell Phillips 

When he first spoke at Faneuil Hall some of the most renowned 
American orators were still in their prime. Webster and Clay were 
in the Senate, Choate at the bar, Edward Everett upon the aca- 
demic platform. From all these orators Phillips differed more than 
they differed from each other. Behind Webster, and Everett, and 
Clay, there was always a great organized party, or an intrenched 
conservatism of feeling and opinion. They spoke accepted views. 
They moved with masses of men, and were sure of the applause 
of party spirit, of political traditions, and of established institutions. 
Phillips stood alone. He was not a Whig nor a Democrat, nor 
the graceful panegyrist of an undisputed situation. Both parties 
denounced him. He must recruit a new party. Public opinion con- 
demned him. He must win public opinion to achieve his purpose. 
The tone, the method of the new orator, announced a new spirit. It 
was not a heroic story of the last century, nor the contention of con- 
temporary politics ; it was the unsuspected heroism of a mightier 
controversy that breathed and burned in his words. With no party 
behind him, and appealing against established order and acknowledged 
tradition, his speech was necessarily a popular appeal for a strange 
and unwelcome cause, and the condition of its success was that it 
should both charm and rouse his hearer, while, under cover of the 
fascination, the orator unfolded his argument and urged his plea. 
This condition the genius of the orator instantly perceived, and it 
determined the character of his discourse. 

He faced his audience with tranquil mien, and a beaming aspect 
that was never dimmed. He spoke, and in the measured cadence of 
his quiet voice there was intense feeling but no declamation, no 
passionate appeal, no superficial and feigned emotion. It was simply 
colloquy — a gentleman conversing. Unconsciously and surely the 
ear and heart were charmed. How was it done ? Ah ! how did Mo- 
zart do it — how Raphael ? The secret of the rose's sweetness, of 



286 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the bird's ecstasy, of the sunset's glory, — that is the secret of genius 
and of eloquence. What was heard, what was seen, was the form of 
noble manhood, the courteous and self-possessed tone, the flow of 
modulated speech, sparkling with matchless richness of illustration, 
with apt allusion, and happy anecdote, and historic parallel, with wit 
and pitiless invective, with melodious pathos, with stinging satire, 
with crackling epigram and limpid humor, like the bright ripples that 
play around the sure and steady prow of the resistless ship. Like 
an illuminated vase of odors, he glowed with concentrated and per- 
fumed fire. The divine energy of his conviction utterly possessed 

him, and his 

pure and eloquent blood 

Spoke in his cheek, and so distinctly wrought, 

That one might almost say his body thought. 

Was it Pericles swaying the Athenian multitude? Was it Apollo 
breathing the music of the morning from his lips? It was an Ameri- 
can patriot, a modern son of liberty, with a soul as firm and as true 
as was ever consecrated to unselfish duty, pleading with the Ameri- 
can conscience for the chained and speechless victims of American 
inhumanity. 

59. The Unknown God 

Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too super- 
stitious. For as I passed by, and beheld your devotions, I found an 
altar with this inscription, To the Unknown God. Whom there- 
fore ye ignorantly worship, him declare I unto you. God that made 
the world and all things therein, seeing that he is Lord of heaven and 
earth, dwelleth not in temples made with hands ; neither is worshipped 
with men's hands, as though he needed any thing, seeing he giveth 
to all life, and breath, and all things ; and hath made of one blood 
all nations of men for to dwell on all the face of the earth, and hath 
determined the times before appointed, and the bounds of their habi- 
tation ; that they should seek the Lord, if haply they might feel after 
him, and find him, though he be not far from every one of us : for 
in him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of 
your own poets have said, For we are also his offspring. Forasmuch 
then as we are the offspring of God, we ought not to think that the 
Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 287 

man's device. And the times of this ignorance God winked at ; but 
now commandeth all men every where to repent : because he hath 
appointed a day, in the which he will judge the world in righteousness 
by that man whom he hath ordained ; whereof he hath given assur- 
ance unto all men, in that he hath raised him from the dead. 

Acts xvii, 22-31 

60. And here his course the Chieftain stayed, 
Threw down his target and his plaid, 
And to the Lowland warrior said : 

t: Bold Saxon ! to his promise just, 

Vich-Alpine has discharged his trust. 

This murderous Chief, this ruthless man, 

This head of a rebellious clan, 

Hath led thee safe, through watch and ward, 

Far past Clan-Alpine's outmost guard. 

Now, man to man, and steel to steel, 

A Chieftain's vengeance thou shalt feel. 

See, here all vantageless I stand, 

Armed like thyself with single brand : 

For this is Coilantogle ford, 

And thou must keep thee with thy sword.'' 

61. Songs from William Tell, Act I, Scene I 

Fisher Boy {singing in his boat) 

The clear smiling lake woo'd to bathe in its deep, 
A boy on its green shore had laid him to sleep ; 
Then heard he a melody 

Flowing and soft, 
And sweet as when angels 
Are singing aloft. 
And as thrilling with pleasure he wakes from his rest, 
The waters are murmuring over his breast ; 
And a voice from the deep cries, 

?t With me thou must go ; 
I charm the young shepherd, 
I lure him below." 



288 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

62. Herdsman {singing on the mountains) 

Farewell, ye green meadows, 

Farewell, sunny shore, 
The herdsman must leave you, 
The summer is o'er. 
We go to the hills, but you '11 see us again, 

When the cuckoo is calling, and wood-notes are gay, 
When flow'rets are blooming in dingle and plain, 
And the brooks sparkle up in the sunshine of May. 
Farewell, ye green meadows, 
Farewell, sunny shore, 
The herdsman must leave you, 
The summer is o'er. 

63. Chamois Hunter {appearing on the top of a cliff) 

On the heights peals the thunder, and trembles the bridge ; 
The huntsman bounds on by the dizzying ridge. 
Undaunted he hies him 
O'er ice-covered wild, 
Where leaf never budded, 
Nor spring ever smiled ; 
And beneath him an ocean of mist, where his eye 
No longer the dwellings of man can espy ; 
Through the parting clouds only 

The earth can be seen, 
Far down 'neath the vapor 

The meadows of green. — Schiller 

64. William Tell. Act V, Scene I 

{A common near Altorf. In the background to the right the 
Keep {castle) of Uri. To the left the view opens tip on numerous 
mountains, on all of which signal fires are burning. Day is break- 
ing, and bells are heard ri?igi7ig fro?n various distances. 

Ruodi, Kuoni, Werni, the Master Mason, and many other country 
people, also women and children?) 

Ruodi. Look at the fiery signals on the mountains ! 
Maso?i. Hark to the bells above the forest there ! 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 289 

Ruodi. The enemy 's expelled. 

Mason. The forts are taken. 

Ruodi. And we of Uri, do we still endure 
Upon our native soil the tyrant's Keep ? 
Are we the last to strike for liberty ? 

Mason. Shall the yoke stand, that was to bow our necks ? 
Up ! Tear it to the ground ! 

All. Down, down with it ! 

Ruodi. Where is the Stier of Uri ? 

Uri. Here. What would ye ? 

Ruodi. Up to your tower, and wind us such a blast 
As shall resound afar, from hill to hill, 
Rousing the echoes of each peak and glen, 
And call the mountain men in haste together ! 

Exit Stier — enter Walter Fiirst 

Fiirst. Stay, stay, my friends ! As yet we have not learn'd 
What has been done in Unterwald and Schwytz. 
Let 's wait till we receive intelligence ! 

Ruodi. Wait ! wait for what ? The accursed tyrant 's dead, 
And the bright day of liberty has dawn'd ! 

Mason. How ! Do these flaming signals not suffice, 
That blaze on every mountain top around? 

Ruodi. Come all, fall to — come men and women, all ! 
Destroy the scaffold ! Tear the arches down ! 
Down with the walls, let not a stone remain ! 

Mason. Come, comrades, come ! W T e built it, and we know 
How best to hurl it down. 

All. Come ! down with it ! 

Fiirst. The floodgates burst. They 're not to be restrained. 

Enter Melchtal and Baumgarten 

Melchtal. What ! Stands the fortress still, when Sarnen lies 
In ashes, and when Rossberg is a ruin ? 

Fiirst. You, Melchtal, here? D'ye bring us liberty? 
Say, have you freed the country of the foe ? 

Melchtal. We 've swept them from the soil. Rejoice, my friend ; 
Now, at this very moment, while we speak. 
There *s not a tyrant left in Switzerland ! — Schiller 



290 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

6j. The soul of the woman who stood 

Face to face with the flood, 
Answered the shock 
Like the eternal rock, 
For she stayed 
With her hand on the wire. 

Face to face with duty and death, 
Dear is the drawing of human breath : 
" Steady, my hand, hold fast 
To the trust upon thee cast ! " 
' This message is my last.' 

The torrent took her — God knows all. 

Fiercely the savage currents fall 

To muttering calm. Men count their dead ; 

The June sky smileth overhead. 

God's will we neither read nor guess. 

Poorer by one hero less, 

We bow the head and clasp the hand : 

" Teach us, although we die, to stand ! " — 



66. A child, grown restless as the night came on, 

Tired of twilight, wondering where the day had gone, 
Stood watching at the window with a weary sigh, 
Till heaven should hang its star-lamps in the sky. 

" Mamma, why don't they come ? " she questioning sighed ; 
Then, looking up, ct Come, pretty stars ! " she sweetly cried. 
Deeper the shadows of the night around her grew, 
While patiently she peered the darkness through. 

At last, with a shout of joy, a star she spied. 
" I see one now, mamma ; why not before ? " she cried. 
The mother kissed her little eager lips and smiled : 
" Because it was not dark enough, my child." 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 29 1 

So shine the eternal stars in sorrow's night ; 
The deepest gloom but serves to bring their blessed light. 
Take courage, then, look up ! heart that most has bled, 
God's Stars of Hope are shining overhead. — Gordon 

67. All the processes of the ages are God's science ; all the flow 
of history is his poetry. His sculpture is not in marble, but in living 
and speech-giving forms, which pass away, not to yield place to those 
that come after, but to be perfected in a nobler studio. What he 
has done remains, although it vanishes ; and he never either forgets 
what he has once done, or does it even once again. As the thoughts 
move in the mind of a man, so move the worlds of men and women 
in the mind of God, and make no confusion there, for there they 
had their birth, the offspring of his imagination. Man is but a 
thought of God. — Macdonald 



68. A Christmas Carol 

STAVE FOUR 

As the last stroke of twelve ceased to vibrate, Scrooge beheld a 
solemn Phantom, draped and hooded, coming like a mist along the 
ground towards him. When it came near, Scrooge bent down upon 
his knee ; for in the air through which the Spirit moved it seemed 
to scatter gloom and mystery. 

tf Lead on ! lead on ! The night is waning fast, and it is precious 
time to me, I know. Lead on, Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come ! " 

They scarcely seemed to enter the city ; for the city rather seemed 
to spring up about them. But there they were in the heart of it ; on 
'Change, amongst the merchants. 

The spirit stopped beside one little group of business men. Scrooge 
advanced and listened. 

?t No," said a fat man, " I don't know much about it either way. 
I only know he is dead." 

" When did he die ? " 

" Last night, I believe." 

" Why, what was the matter with him ? I thought he 'd never die ! " 

" God knows," said the fat man with a yawn. 



292 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

" What has he done with his money ? " 

" I have n't heard ; company, perhaps. He has n't left it to me. 
That 's all I know. By, by ! " 

They left this busy scene, and went into an obscure part of town, 
to a low shop where iron, old rags, bottles, bones, and greasy offal 
were bought. A gray-haired rascal of great age sat smoking his pipe. 

Scrooge and the Phantom came into the presence of this man just 
as a woman with a heavy bundle slunk into the shop. But she had 
scarcely entered, when another woman, similarly laden, came in too ; 
and she was closely followed by a man in faded black. 

They all three burst out laughing and the first to enter cried : 
" Let the charwoman alone to be the first ; let the laundress alone to 
be the second ; and let the undertaker's man alone to be the third. 
Look here, old Joe, here's a chance! If we haven't all three met 
here without meaning it ! " 

" What have you got to sell ? " 

" Half a minute's patience, Joe, and you shall see." 

"What odds then! what odds, Mrs. Dilber?" said the other 
woman. "Every person has a right to take care of himself. He 
always did ! Who 's the worse for the loss of a few things like these ? 
Not a dead man, I suppose." 

tc No, indeed, ma'am." 

" If he wanted to keep 'em after he was dead, a wicked old screw, 
why wasn't he natural in his life-time? If he had been, he 'd have 
had somebody to look after him when he was struck with Death, 
instead of lying gasping out his last there, alone by himself." 

rt It 's the truest word that ever was spoke, it 's a judgment on him." 

" I wish it were a little heavier judgment, and it should have been 
if I could have laid my hands on anything else. Open that bundle, 
Joe, and let me know the value of it." 

Joe went down on his knees for the greater convenience of open- 
ing the bundle, and dragged out a large and heavy roll of some 
dark stuff. 

" What do you call this ? Bed-curtains ! " 

" Ah ! Bed-curtains ! Don't drop that oil upon the blankets, now." 

" His blankets ? " 

" Whose else do you think ? He is n't likely to take cold without 
'em, I dare say. Ah ! You may look through that shirt till your eyes 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 293 

ache ; but you won't find a hole in it, nor a threadbare place. It 's 
the best he had, and a fine one too. They 'd have wasted it by dressing 
him up in it, if it had n't been for me." 

Scrooge listened to this dialogue in horror. 

" Spirit, I see, I see. The case of this unhappy man might be my 
own. My life tends that way, now. Merciful Heaven, what is this ! " 

The scene changed, and now he almost touched a bare, uncurtained 
bed. On it, unwatched, unwept, uncared for, was the body of this 
plundered, unknown man. 

" Spirit, let me see some tenderness connected with death, or this 
dark chamber, Spirit, will be forever present to me." 

The Ghost conducted him to poor Bob Cratchit's house, — the 
dwelling he had visited before, — and found the mother and children 
seated around the fire. 

Quiet. Very quiet. The noisy little Cratchits were as still as 
statues in one corner, and sat looking up at Peter, who had a book 
before him. The mother and her daughters were engaged in needle- 
work. But surely they were very quiet ! 

" 'And he took a child and set him in the midst of them.' " 

Where had Scrooge heard those words? He had not dreamed 
them. The boy must have read them out, as he and the Spirit crossed 
the threshold. Why did he not go on ? 

The mother laid her work upon the table and put her hand up 
to her face. 

" The color hurts my eyes," she said. 

The color ? Ah, poor Tiny Tim ! 

" They are better now again. It makes them weak by candle-light ; 
and I would n't show weak eyes to your father when he comes home 
for the world. It must be near his time." 

" Past it rather," Peter answered, shutting up his book. - r But I 
think he has walked a little slower than he used, these last few 
evenings." 

Cf I have known him walk with — I have known him walk with 
Tiny Tim upon his shoulder, very fast indeed." 

" And so have I, often ! " 

" But he was very light to carry, and his father loved him so that 
it was no trouble — no trouble. And there is your father at the 
door." 



294 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

She hurried out to meet him ; and little Bob and his comforter — 
he had need of it, poor fellow — came in. His tea was ready for him 
on the hob, and they all tried who should help him to it most. Then 
the two young Cratchits got upon his knees and laid each Child a 
little cheek against his face, as if they said, " Don't mind it, father. 
Don't be grieved ! " 

Bob was very cheerful with them, and spoke pleasantly to all the 
family. He looked at the work upon the table, and praised the in- 
dustry and speed of Mrs. Cratchit and the girls. They would be done 
long before Sunday. 

" Sunday ! You went to-day, then, Robert? " 

" Yes, my dear, I wish you could have gone. It would have done 
you good to see how green a place it is. But you '11 see it often. I 
promised him I would walk there on a Sunday. My little child ! " 

He broke down all at once. 

"Spectre," said Scrooge, "something informs me that our part- 
ing moment is at hand. I know it, but I do not know how. Tell me 
what man that was, with the covered face, whom we saw lying dead ? " 

The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come conveyed him to a dismal, 
wretched, ruinous churchyard. 

The Spirit stood among the graves, and pointed down to One. 

Scrooge crept toward it, trembling as he went ; and, following the 
finger, read upon the stone of the neglected grave his own name, — 
Ebenezer Scrooge. 

"Am I that man who lay upon the bed ? No, Spirit ! O no, no ! 
Spirit ! hear me ! I am not the man I was. I will not be the man I 
must have been but for this intercourse. Why show me this if I am 
past all hope ? Assure me that I yet may change these shadows you 
have shown me by an altered life. O tell me I may sponge away the 
writing on this stone ! " 

Holding up his hands in one last prayer to have his fate reversed, 
he saw an alteration in the Phantom's hood and dress. It shrunk, 
collapsed, and dwindled down into a bedpost. Yes, and the bedpost ' 
was his own, the room was his own. Best and happiest of all, the 
Time before him was his own, to make amends in ! He was checked 
in his transports by the churches ringing out the lustiest peals he had 
ever heard. Running to the window, he opened it, and put his head 
out. No fog, no mist, no night ; clear, bright, stirring, golden day. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 295 

"What's to-day? " cried Scrooge, calling downward to a boy in 
Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look about him. 

" Eh?" 

" What 's to-day, my fine fellow ? " 

" To-day ! Why, Christmas Day ! " 

tf It 's Christmas Day ! I have n't missed it. Hallo, my fine fellow ! " 

" Hallo ! " 

ct Do you know the poulterer's, in the next street but one, at the 
corner? " 

tf I should hope. I did." 

" An intelligent boy ! A remarkable boy ! Do you know whether 
they have sold the prize turkey that was hanging up there ? Not the 
little prize turkey, — the big one ? " 

" What, the one as big as me?" 

" What a delightful boy ! It 's a pleasure to talk to him. Yes, my 
buck ! " 

" It's hanging there now." 

" Is it? Go and buy it." 

" Get out ! " exclaimed the boy. 

" No, no, I am in earnest. Go and buy it, and tell 'em to bring it 
here, that I may give them the direction where to take it. Come back 
with the man and I '11 give you a shilling. Come back with him in 
less than five minutes and I '11 give you half a crown ! " 

The boy was off like a shot. 

" I'll send it to Bob Cratchit's ! He sha'n't know who sends it. 
It 's twice the size of Tiny Tim ! " 

The hand in which he wrote the address was not a steady one ; 
but write it he did, somehow, and went down stairs to open the street 
door, ready for the coming of the poulterer's man. 

It was a turkey ! He never could have stood upon his legs, that 
bird. He would have snapped 'era short off in a minute, like sticks 
of sealing wax. 

Scrooge dressed himself ft all in his best," and at last got out into 
the streets. The people were by this time pouring forth, as he had 
seen them with the Ghost of Christmas Present ; and, walking with 
his hands behind him, Scrooge regarded every one with a delighted 
smile. He looked so irresistibly pleasant, in a word, that three or 
four good-humored fellows said. " Good morning, sir ! A merry 



296 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

Christmas to you ! " And Scrooge said often afterwards, that, of all the 
blithe sounds he had ever heard, those were the blithest in his ears. 

In the afternoon he turned his steps towards his nephew's house. 
He passed the door a dozen times before he had the courage to go 
up and knock. But he made a dash and did it. 

" Is your master at home, my dear? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Where is he, my love ? " 

" He 's in the dining-room, sir, along with mistress." 

' f He knows me and I '11 step right in there, my dear. — Fred ! " 

" Why, bless my soul, who 's that? " 

" It 's I, your uncle Scrooge. I have come to dinner. Will you 
let me in ? " 

Let him in ! It is a mercy he did n't shake his arm off. He was 
at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier. His niece looked 
just the same. So did every one else. Wonderful party, wonderful 
games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness ! 

But he was early at the office the next morning. O, he was early 
there. If he could only be there first and catch Bob Cratchit coming 
late ! That was the thing he had set his heart upon. 

And he did it. The clock struck nine. No Bob. A quarter past. 
No Bob. Bob was full eighteen minutes and a half behind the time. 
Scrooge sat with his door wide open, that he might see him come 
into the Tank. Bob's hat was off before he opened the door, his 
comforter too. He was on his stool in a jiffy, driving away with his 
pen, as if he were trying to overtake nine o'clock. 

" Hallo ! " growled Scrooge, in his accustomed voice, as near as 
he could feign it. ct What do you mean by coming here at this time 
of the day ? " 

" I am sorry, sir, I am behind my time." 

" You are? Yes. I think you are. Step this way, if you please." 

" It 's only once a year, sir. It shall not be repeated. I was 
making rather merry yesterday, sir." 

" Now, I '11 tell you what, my friend. I am not going to stand this 
sort of thing any longer. And therefore," Scrooge continued, leaping 
from his stool and giving Bob such a dig in the waistcoat that he 
staggered back into the Tank again, — " and therefore I am about 
to raise your salary ! " 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 297 

Bob trembled, and got a little nearer to the ruler. 

" A merry Christmas, Bob ! " said Scrooge, with an earnestness 
that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. "A 
merry Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, merrier than I have given 
you for many a year ! I '11 raise your salary, and endeavor to assist 
your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very 
afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob ! Make up 
the fires, and buy a second coal-scuttle before you dot another i, 
Bob Cratchit ! " 

Scrooge was better than his word. He did all and infinitely more ; 
and to Tiny Tim who did not die, he became a second father. He 
became as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as the 
good old city knew, or any other good old city, town, or borough in 
the good old world. Some people laughed to see the alteration in 
him ; but his own heart laughed, and that was quite enough for him. 

He had no further intercourse with Spirits, but lived in that re- 
spect upon the Total-Abstinence Principle ever afterwards ; and it was 
always said of him, that he knew how to keep Christmas well, if 
any man alive possessed the knowledge. 

May that be truly said of us, and all of us ! And so, as Tiny Tim 
observed, God Bless Us, Every One! — Adapted from Dickens 

69. The Warm Heart 

Primarily the great reason for educating the young is that they 
may be made good citizens. The public-school systems of the 
country are not founded with a view to training the boy in early life 
in a manner to make him a " good business man " when he grows 
to maturity. They are founded and maintained because the country 
has need of good citizens, — citizens in whom patriotism and honesty 
shall not be entirely subordinated to the love of money making. 
Therefore it is disappointing to hear a leader in the work of child 
education give tongue to sentiments similar to those expressed by 
the president of the Illinois State Teachers' Association at Spring- 
field when he said, " It is better to develop clear heads and stiff 
backbones than warm hearts." 

There is nothing the matter with the backbone and no lack of clear- 
ness in the head of the average American. The fierce competitive 



298 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN .SPEECH 

life has cared for the development of these parts. It has made the 
American the leader in the material things of the world. He sees more 
clearly the road to money and travels the road more directly and with 
a stiffer backbone than the men of any other race. As a type he is 
the most efficient money-making machine in existence. 

This acquired ability in money making, however, has brought 
with it many of the evils that are being thrashed out in the courts 
and newspapers all over the country. For with this clear-minded, 
stiff-backboned ability has come a dulled conscience and an atrophy 
of the finer sensibilities. 

A clear mind and a stiff backbone ! The country is full of them. 
They are to be found wherever wealth and power have their abode. 
They make successful men, but it is being proved daily that they 
do not necessarily make good citizens. It is. the warm heart that we 
need in our national life. Sympathy, humanitarianism, patriotism, 
honesty. These are the attributes of the warm heart. To suggest 
that the school children of the country be taught to regard them as 
things that should be shunned is a serious mistake. 

The Chicago Record- Herald 

II. Speech Dynamics 

Nature of speech dynamics. A modulation of voice in 
pitch is the fundamental action in speech melody, of the 
character of the tone in speech quality, of the rate of 
utterance in speech rhythm ; and these modulations, under 
normal conditions, come in response to thought and feeling. 
In search for further possible modulations of the utterance 
in vocal expression, read aloud the following extracts : 

1 . While the heart beats young ! Oh, the splendor of the spring, 
With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing ! 

2. The great bell swung as ne'er before : 
It seemed as it would never cease ; 
And every word its ardor flung 
From off its jubilant iron tongue 
Was " War! War! War!"'' 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 299 

3. One afternoon as Hilda entered St. Peter's in sombre mood, 
its interior beamed upon her with all the effect of a new creation. 

4. The red rose cries, ct She is near, she is near " ; 

And the white rose weeps, :t She is late " ; 
The larkspur listens, " I hear, I hear " ; 
And the lily whispers, "I wait." 

A careful study of these selections will convince us that 
there are still elements of vocal expression which have not 
received our observation thus far. With a speech melody, 
a speech quality, and a speech rhythm which carry all that 
they are capable of in the way of thought and feeling, 
still certain powerful elements fail to find expression 
through them. Keeping, as far as possible, melody, rhythm, 
and quality normal, read the second selection through with 
the same degree of power in the tone, that is with the same 
volume or loudness of tone ; use the same in reading the 
third ; shout the fourth ; read the first and third with ex- 
actly the same touch of voice upon the words ; and imme- 
diately it is recognized that the voice is failing to convey 
certain values in thought and emotion. This fourth ele- 
ment of vocal expression is called speech dynamics. This 
term is somewhat general and includes at least two others, 
volume and touch. Speech dynamics, then, is that modu- 
lation of the voice in quantity and application of tone 
which comes in response to thought and feeling. 

The term " speech dynamics. " The term "speech 
melody " has been employed to denote the characteristic 
of speech which is analogous to melody in music. In like 
manner " speech rhythm " and " speech quality " have been 
employed. Speech melody and speech quality are the great 
pitch factors of speech. Speech rhythm is the great time 
factor. What shall the intensity factor be called ? Here 



300 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the analogy to music ought to hold as well as in the former 
cases, and so the term " speech dynamics " has been adopted. 
This being so, and since its use is new in this connection, 
help in understanding its nature may be had by a study of 
its connection in music. 

Dynamics in music. A primer of music states that 
" dynamics relates to loud and soft sounds." Again it 
says, " Two sounds differing only in power would be found 
in the department of dynamics." Again, " Sounds differing 
only in length are found in the department of rhythm." 
Lastly, " Sounds differing only in pitch are found in the 
department of melody." The terms forte, mezzo, piano, 
etc. are employed to denote sounds varying from very 
loud, fortissimo, to very soft, pianissimo. A series of tones 
commenced at very soft and gradually increased to very 
loud give a crescendo. Tones in the reverse order give a 
diminuendo. When these changes are made upon a single 
tone and the action is quick, the former is called a pres- 
sure tone and the latter an explosive. A tone very short 
and quick is called staccato. When the tone maintains 
the same character throughout but is short and quick, it is 
called an organ tone. Attention is called to these tones and 
the terms used, not for the purpose of employing them in 
vocal expression, but to bring out the nature of vocal action 
in intensity. The intensity is manifested in two ways : in 
variation in the volume of tone ; and in a possible variation 
in the application of this tone by the touch, — of the hand in 
some forms of instrumental music, of the breath in others, 
of the voice in vocal music. A fortissimo tone differs from 
a pianissimo in volume ; a staccato tone differs from an 
organ tone in touch. Analogous differences appearing in 
speech are suggested by the term " vocal dynamics." 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 30I 

Intensity elements. Every vocal utterance has a certain 
degree of intensity. Every change of intensity must affect 
every phase of the utterance. It may be manifested im- 
mediately by the change of volume of the tone in which 
the thought is given and in the touch of the voice upon 
the words. Volume, then, is the modulation of the voice 
in quantity — now great, now small — by which the varying 
power of thought and feeling is revealed. It is that essen- 
tial property "in which a sound may vary while its pitch 
and duration remain unchanged." Touch likewise is a 
modulation which reveals the intensity of thought and 
feeling but is radically different from volume. The latter 
is quantitative, while the former is motor. Touch is the 
way in which the volume of sound is applied to the words. 

The beginnings of speech dynamics. In harmony with 
what has been already said upon the subject, the first form 
of public speaking, with its tendency to monopitch, mono- 
tone, and monometer, must have been monodynamic in 
character, with a gradual increase in volume up to the 
point of exhaustion. The communal dance was usually 
accompanied by the beating of some sort of percussive 
instrument, like the drum. There was more noise than 
music. Everything was of the crudest type. Even to-day 
the drum, or its substitute, is an object of worship among 
many rude tribes in numerous regions of the earth. No 
remote regions, however, will need to be searched to find 
districts where audiences assemble who seem to delight 
more in the noise of the speaker than in his knowledge. 

Monomotor. Constant variety in the action of the mind 
finds partial expression through volume and touch. Hence 
the greatest fault in speech dynamics will be monodynamic 
in character. To express this idea the term "monomotor " 



302 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

has been coined. A tendency to employ one volume and 
one touch is very common in the public speaking of this 
day. Mr. Rowbotham, in his history of music, points out 
that in the history of musical development there are three 
stages. These stages might be characterized as the stages 
of noise, melody, and harmony. A great noise is a terrible 
mystery to the ignorant and superstitious. Many speakers 
seem to think that their hearers are for the most part 
in the drum stage. They bellow, rant, and roar. As the 
drum has served time and time again to drive away " evil 
spirits," so the noises of some pulpits must serve to drive 
away the " devil of unbelief." When this fierce blast of 
awful sounds is formed into a dirge of heart-rending 
minor cadences, it may have either of two effects : it may 
drive an intelligent audience away, or it may set an igno- 
rant audience into a frenzy of emotional, hypnotic excite- 
ment. " Pray you, avoid it ! " 

The relation of speech dynamics to other speech ele- 
ments. We have gone far enough in the study of the 
manner in which intensity of thought and feeling finds 
expression to realize that all the expressional agents react 
upon each other, — that they are all bound together in 
utterance. If a speaker has good control of both his 
mind and his speech, emotional intensity may show itself 
in melody, quality, movement, or dynamics. Great inten- 
sity may raise or lower the pitch in proportion to the 
vocal and mental control or according to the tempera- 
mental character of the speaker. In the passionate per- 
son it generally raises the pitch. It will have an effect 
upon the quality, since it will tend to change the texture 
of the muscular tissue of the resonant bodies upon which 
the voice depends for its quality. Or it may alter the 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 303 

rhythmic movement, since such a departure will express 
the tension of feeling. As already pointed out, variation 
in volume, in and of itself, may have little expressional 
value ; but the motor application has a high expressional 
value. Suppose, for example, that Portia, in the court 
scene in the " Merchant of Venice," where she says, 

Down therefore and beg mercy of the duke. 

had bawled it out, the whole effect would have been very 
different from that produced if she had given the same 
quietly, but with a decided, almost explosive, touch. The 
quantity of tone, then, which is so helpful in the adjust- 
ment of the voice to the size of the audience room, as an 
expressional agent of a high order, is of far less value than 
touch, which is the motor manifestation of intensity. 

The teaching of intensity. As, in the cases of the other 
modulations of the utterance, each served as an agent of 
the mind, so dynamics is of value only as it reveals thought 
and feeling. Every one of these agents must be alive and 
respond quickly. The speaker " must get into the game " 
with his whole body. Change of volume for the sake of 
change, except for farcical purposes, is most destructive 
of good expression. All shouting, roaring, and ranting, 
under normal conditions, indicate violent misconceptions. 
They overthrow the poise of the voice, that equilibrium in 
amount of tone which reveals a reserve of power, a repose 
in vocal action which inspires confidence in the speaker. 
Extravagance of action in any of the agents of vocal ex- 
pression reveals a loss of personal control which is almost 
fatal to any adequate command of an intelligent audience. 
It is atavistic, and never of value except with the most 
ignorant, and in farce. " Speak louder! " is under most 



304 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

conditions bad advice, for under its inspiration speaking 
is liable to be louder, blankly louder. Carefully "coached " 
amateurs frequently render selections which drown the 
ears of the audience with a noise so harsh and grinding 
and a touch so hard and grating that suicide or murder is 
the only method of escape. Mind not month should be 
given to the audience. As in the development of all the 
other modulations of the utterance, touch and volume with 
proper control can be gained only through hard and intel- 
ligent work. Nothing may so clearly reveal the lack of 
real control and genuine power as the excessive use of 
great volume of tone. On the other hand, nothing so surely 
may show a high degree of development in the technique 
of vocal expression as a correct touch, revealing delicate 
shades and tints of thought and feeling. It is one of the 
last things to be acquired by the learner, but training is 
sadly incomplete without it. Let the student review some 
of the selections already quoted and note the important 
place which touch and volume have already been playing 
in the work. Study again the Webster peroration and note 
the effect of joy and disgust upon the volume and touch. 
Drill the vocal utterance by the use of strong contrasts. 
Compare the farcical, drawling touch of Sam Lawson in 
"Old Town Folks,"' and the firm, decided touch of Brutus 
and Cassius in the Quarrel Scene from the play of " Julius 
Caesar." Mark the difference of effect when the reader 
gives the " Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Cha- 
mouni " first with a brutal loudness and then with a deli- 
cacy of touch which reveals an appreciative, reverent spirit. 
Keep ever in mind that the audience should receive from a 
speaker through the medium of vocal expression the power 
of thought and feeling rather than mere power of lungs. 



SPEECH DYNAMICS 305 

Summary. Speech dynamics is the department of vocal 
expression which treats of the action of the vocal utter- 
ance in intensity in response to thought and feeling. As 
an element it is that modulation of the voice in volume and 
touch which responds to thought and emotion. Volume is 
modulation in quantity ; touch is modulation in the motor 
application of this quantity. When the voice remains un- 
modulated in volume and touch, it is said to be mono- 
dynamic. Under normal conditions this is the most seri- 
ous fault in speech dynamics. It is called monomotor. 
As a medium for the intensity of the emotions, volume 
is of itself the least valuable of the expressional agents ; 
touch is, perhaps, the most valuable. The proper cultiva- 
tion of these media of expression is highly important, and 
requires the development of the utmost attainable power 
of imaginative action, and the utmost delicacy and refine- 
ment in the application of that power. 



CONCLUSION 

Vocal expression has now been seen from the analytical 
standpoint. In closing let us view it from the synthetical 
standpoint. 

As we have already seen, every utterance, outside of 
the language in which it is expressed, conveys thought and 
emotion through what may be called natural actions of the 
voice. Words are symbolic and artificial ; the vocal action 
in which the words are conveyed is direct and natural. 
These natural ways of uttering thought and emotion through 
the voice are of four kinds : melodic, qualitative, temporal, 
and quantitative. The melodic action tends to move in ver- 
tical lines and so to bring out the logical, intellectual phase 
of thinking ; the other significant actions of the voice tend 
to move in horizontal lines, — they are the great avenues 
of emotion ; hence the latter tend to destroy the former. 
Uncontrolled emotion inevitably brings about a uniformity 
of pitch. As a further example, the greater the rapidity of 
the utterance, or the greater the volume, the less is likely 
to be the range in pitch, and hence the logical force of 
the utterance is more or less destroyed. A well-balanced 
development of all phases of utterance is demanded of the 
successful speaker. 

All really strong, creative action in literature and speech 

grows out of a deep, pervasive mood of mind and heart. 

The most exalted and helpful expressions have come from 

those natures which have been pervaded by a fundamental 

306 



CONCLUSION 307 

joy in life. A sympathetic experience of this basic note 
is the criterion of good work in vocal expression. This 
voicing of soul life is a living unity. 

The media in which it moves, — changes in pitch, in- 
flection, quality, movement, pause, volume, and touch — are 
practically inseparable. One justifies the other. A pause 
occurs ; it may be followed and justified by a change of 
pitch. They are vital elements in the living organism of 
vocal expression. Speech melody, speech quality, speech 
rhythm, and speech dynamics are departments of vocal 
expression ; the exact boundaries are indistinguishable. 
Changes in one must, from the very nature of the case, 
be accompanied by changes in the others. 

A mind responsive to the infinite variety of the universe 
is like a mountain lake in summer time. No two moments 
of its life are exactly alike. There is constant variety in 
response to wind and sky and forest and cliff. But under- 
neath that unceasing response there lies the deep heart of 
the lake imbedded in the slow-changing conformations 
of the mountain's rugged bosom. So the mind responds to 
the infinite variety of the universe with its innumerable 
forces and materials. There is unceasing and endless 
change ; but at the same the mind has a deep, almost 
unchanging individuality. Now this mind life seeks to im- 
press itself upon another mind through vocal expression. 
In proportion as the universe and what is universal speaks 
through the voice, — in that proportion, other things being 
equal, will the vocal expression be successful in its appeal 
to humanity. 

To show this universal in its logical life every modula- 
tion of the voice is called into action, but the pitch elements 
are indispensable. The logical and emotional phases of 



308 VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 

the mind are a unit ; they find expression in time, and so 
call upon the rhythmic elements for an adequate expres- 
sion. But the intensity of the emotional life makes upon 
the agents of vocal expression demands which are satisfied 
through changes of quality, volume, and touch. The trained 
voice, drilled until it has become the obedient and uncon- 
scious servant of the trained mind, is no longer a mere 
sound sensation, "inarticulate and vague ; it is an orchestral 
symphony, with groups of responsive instruments : here is 
a group giving the melodic theme ; there, others uttering 
the pulsing life of the universe ; and lastly, groups adding 
rich harmonies, creating noble volume and quality of tone. 
But they are all under the immediate direction of the 
symmetrical mind whose great-hearted theme is "Joy to 
the world ! " 



INDEX TO AUTHORS 

Letters refer to the exercises as arranged under the various headings : Mel- 
ody, M ; Quality, Q ; Rhythm, R ; and Dynamics, D ; the numbers refer to the 
pages on which the selections appear. 



Adams, Q 128 

Barrie, M 36 
Bates, Q 133 
Benton, M 33 
Blackmore, M 48 ; Q 83 
Blouet, Q 101 
Boker, M 22 
Boucicault, R 210 
Branch, D 251 
Bright, Q 89 
Brougham, D 257 
Browning, E., Q 103 ; D 252 
Browning, Q 85, 106, 134; R 161, 
162, 169, 176, 191, 213 ; D 264, 265 
Bryant, R 157 
Bulwer, R 188, 1S9 
Burdette, M 29 
Burke, M 22 
Burton, M 40 ; D 266 
Byron, D 244 

Carlyle, M 32 ; D 251, 259 

Chapman, R 173 

Chatham, R 159 

Cicero, M 29, 32 

Clay, R 172 

Cochran, R 165; D 262 

Coleridge, R 174; D 246 

Cornwall, M 28 

Craik, D 267 

Cro triers, R 222 

Curtis, R 1 59 



Deems, D 290 
Demosthenes, M31 
Dewey, D 254 
Dickens, M 46, 52; Q119, 

R223; D291 
Dobson, R 179 

Eliot, R 168 

Emerson, M 26, 42 ; D 269 

Frye, D 249, 250 

Gilman, M 41 
Gordon, D 290 
Gosse, R 180 
Grady, Q 90 
Grattan, M 29 ; Q 91 
Gray, R 176 
Griggs, M 22, 23 

Hawthorne, R 160, 172 
Henry, M 23, 63 
Herrick, R 175 
Hogg, R 1 57 
Holmes, I. C, M 26 
Holmes, O. W., M 26 
Hough, Q 126 
Hovey, D 256 
Howitt, M 27 
Hume, D 279 



Ingersoll, R 165 
Irving, Q 82 ; R ] 



D246 



309 



3io 



INDEX TO AUTHORS 



Kellogg, R 182; D 259 
Kipling, R 163, 167, 168, 229 

Lang, R 178 
Lanier, D 255 
Lee, M 23 
Legouve, Q 127 
Lincoln, M 35 
Lippard, M 22 ; D 242 
Longfellow, R 157, 160, 223 ; Q 83 
Lowell, M 27 ; R 177 ; D 257 
Lyly, M35 



Macaulay, D 28 
McCarthy, R 221 
Macdonald, R 181 
Maclaren, R 192 
Masson, Q 88 
Matheson, D 245 
Miller, D 270 
Morris, R 171 ; D 256 

Newman, R 223 

Phillips, M 33 
Pitt, R 183 
Pollok, Q 82 
Puck, M 30 



Read, M 27 ; D 255 
Riley, D 256 
Rossetti, M 36 ; R 207 



D291 



Ruskin, Q 108, 11 1 

Schiller, D 287, 288 
Scott, Q 115; D 287 
Shakespeare, M 23, 28, 29, 30 ; Q 

82, 83; R 169, 171, 175, 217; 

D 241, 242, 243 
Shaw, R 170 
Sheridan, R 171 
Sherman, Q 136 
Smith, R 187 
Stetson, Q 116 
Stevenson, C. W., D 268 
Stevenson, R. L., M 22 ; Q 85, 132 ; 

R174 
Stowe, Q 82 ; R 248 
Stringer, Q 135 
Swinburne, R 176 

Tennyson, M 24, 29 ; Q 86, 87, 100, 
121 ; R 187, 196, 220; D 244, 271 
Trowbridge, D 243 

Wallace, Q 90 ; D 241 
Ward, Q 91 

Webster, M 34 ; D 252, 268 
Wells, R164 
White, R 174 

Wordsworth, M 27 ; Q 84 ; R 160, 
175 

Yeats, R 181 



INDEX TO SELECTIONS 

Arranged under Literary Forms 

The letters M, Q, R, and D refer to the selections as arranged under the head- 
ings Melody, Quality, Rhythm, and Dynamics. The numbers correspond to the 
numbers of the exercises as they occur under their respective headings. 



LYRICS 



A Conservative, M 41 
A Cureall, D 244 
A Day in June, D 26S 
A hurry of hoofs, R 160 
A man must live, R 180 
A Prose Lyric, R 187 
Announced by all the 
of the sky, M 26 



trumpets 



Ballad of Francois of Villon, R 176 
Brook, The, R 220 



Hark, hark, the lark, Q 83 
Harvard Commemoration Ode. 

R177 
He knew to bide his time, M 27 
He must go, R 168 
Hounds are yelling, R 1 59 
House Beautiful, The, Q 84 
How much, dear, M 30 
Hurrah, M 28 
Hurrah for the sea, M 29 
Hymn to Mont Blanc, D 246 



Cavalier Tunes, R 161 
Columbus, D 270 
Concerning Mosquitoes, R 172 
Cupid and my Campaspe, M35 

Day, I) 265 

Day is dying, R 168 

Departed Friend, The. Q 132 

Fear death, R 176 
Flower in the crannied wall, M 29 
Flower of the green-knolled mead- 
ow. M 33 



I dip and I surge, R 168 

I plucked a honeysuckle, M 36 

I sprang to the stirrup, R 169 

If we had the time, M 40 

In a valley, D 251 

In his arms, R 181 

In the golden lightning, Q 84 

It seems but yesterday, Q 83 

It was an eve, Q 82 

It was up in the morn, R 171 

Johnstown Flood, The. D 290 



Garden Fancies, R 191 
Green Things Growing. D 267 
Gypsy Song. Q 136 



Laughing Chorus, A, D 263 
Lead, Kindly Light, R 223 
Look Without, D 256 



3U 



312 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 



My heart, M 23 
My star, Q 106 
Mysterious night, R174 

Nearer, my God, to Thee, Q 128 
Not only around our infancy, D 
257 

O for a soft and gentle wind, M 30 
O Love, D 245 

Oh! show me where is He, D 241 
Oh, such a commotion, D 263 
Oh, to be in England, D 265 
Our hearts, our hopes, R 223 

Primitive Man, R 179 
Progress of Poesy, The, R 176 
Psalm, R178 
Push off the boat, R168 

Recessional, The, R163 
Rhodora, The, D 269 
Rise, M 28 

Sea-king's daughter, M 24 

Shout, M 27 

Sloggin' over Africa, R 167 



Sonnet, R 175 

Spirit of the night, Q 84 

Spring Wakens, R 187 

Such a starved bank of moss, Q 85 

Sunset Parable, A, Q 133 

The period of our time is brief, D 

252 
The raging rocks, R 175 
The rainbow comes and goes, Q 

84 
The Spring, M 27 
The world is too much with us, R 

175 
The year's at the spring, D 264 
There is sweet music here, Q 86 
Thus I, R 175 

Too hard it is to sing, R 179 
Two Callings, Q116 
Two voices, R 160 

Wanderer's Litany, A, Q 135 
When a deed is done for free- 
dom, R 172 
Where shall we lay the man, Q 86 
While the heart beats young, D 
256 



DRAMATIC 



A horse, D 241 

Charley Johnson's Fine, Q 93 

David Copperfield, M46; Q 119 
Dear master, Q 83 

Falstaff's Recruits, R 217 [241 
Friends, Romans, countrymen, D 

Give it here, M 28 

Hamlet, D 242 
Hence, home, M 29 



Hotspur, R 169 

How ill this taper burns, Q 82 

Katharine to the Cardinal, D 242 

Mend and charge home, Q 83 
Must I budge, M 29 
My Last Duchess, Q 106 
My own East, Q 134 

Remember March, M 23 
Richard III, D 243 



INDEX TO SELECTIONS 



)I3 



Scene from David Copperfield, 

M46; Q119 
Scene from Hamlet, D 242 
Scene from Henry IV, R 217 
Scene from Richard III, D 243 
Scene from Richelieu, R 188, 189 
Scene from Shaughraun, R 210 
Shylock, D 258 



Sir Peter, R 171 

Speak the speech, M 30 

The raging rocks, R 175 

What a piece of work is man, R 1 7 1 
What 's the matter, M 28 
William Tell, D 287, 288 



A Christmas Carol, M 52 ; 

R223; D 291 
A Holiday in Bed, M 36 
A hurry of hoofs, R 160 
A Royal Princess, R 207 
A well-known clergyman, M 31 
And now before the open door, 

D255 
And there was mounting in hot 

haste, D 244 
Are you ready, D 249 
As when about the silver moon, 

Ri73 

Bible, John ix, R 1S5 

Capture of a Trout, The, M 48 
Coming of Arthur, The, D 271 
Concerning Mosquitoes, R 172 

Elaine, Q 100 
England, Q 91 

Gareth and Lynette, R 196 
Gloriously, Max, D 257 

Her First Dawn, R 174 

Heron, The, Q 127 

Herve Riel, R213 

His Majesty the Baby, R 192 

Ho ! strike, D 244 

Hush! silence along the lines. 

D2 4 2 



NARRATIVE 



Q129; 



I sprang, R 169 

Is there a way to forget, D 243 

It was a Chicago police station, 

R164 
It was a quiet Sunday, Q 88 



Lady of Shalott, The, Q 12 
Laziness, M t,2> 
Lochinvar, Q 1 1 5 



Misfortunes of Little Ike Templin, 

The, Q 139 
Muskeeters, R 170 
My Last Duchess, Q 106 

Old Town Folks, D 248 

One afternoon as Hilda, R 160 

Out of the North, M 27 

Romance of the Swan's Nest, Q 



Sir Galahad, Q 87 
Storm, The, R 182 
Suddenly the notes, D 246 

The people arose, Q 90 
The trumpet sounded, D 241 
Too hard to bear, D 244 



314 



VOCAL EXPRESSION IN SPEECH 



ORATORIC 



A little while ago, R 165 
All hail, Columbus, Q 89 
All the processes, D 291 
And now, bring on, D 259 
Are you really prepared, D 257 
As one looks, R 183 

Browning's description, R 222 
But, whatever may be our fate, 

D252 
But have we finished the fight, 

D 250 

Call to Arms, The, M 23 
Centuries ago, D 249 

Democracy of Art, D 256 

Eloquence, D 268 

Filial Piety, D 258 

Fool, D 251 

Four men stood, M 23 

Gettysburg Address, The, M 35 
Great books, M 32 

Has the gentleman done, Q 91 
He who speaks honestly, M 32 
Herald of Burgundy, R 221 
Heroes, R 184 
Heroic Element in Modern Life, 

The, Q 109 
How long, O Catiline, M 32 

I catch another vision, Q 90 
I have thus far shown, D 243 
I would still, M 22 
In the name of all, D 255 
In this God's world, D 259 



Indeed, we are but shadows, R 

172 
It was a Chicago police station, 

R164 

" Keep your Eye on the Ball," 
R165 

Language, M 26 

Let us try the nation, Q 89 

Liberty, gentlemen, D 254 

Man and Woman, Q 101 
Men of Israel, M 24 
Monsieur and Madame, Q 101 
My boy, M 29 
My Lords, R 159 
My Talent, D 262 

No royal governor, R 160 

O name of liberty, M 29 
Oceans of horse-hair, D 259 
Of all the qualities, M ^3 
On the crown, M 31 

Patriotism, R 172 
Paul, M 24, 34 ; D 286 
Poetry, R 222 
Press On, R 182 

Repent Ye, M 44 

Search creation, D 256 
Self-Reliance, M 42 
Sire, I am only a woman, D 252 
So long as we love, M 22 

The class which has hitherto 

ruled, Q 89 
The love which survives, R 178 



INDEX TO SELECTIONS 



315 



The soul of all genius, M 22 
The True Use of Wealth, Qui 
The Unknown God, D 286 
The Warm Heart, D 297 
" The Young Lawyer," D 279 
To Whom Homage is Due, Q 142 

Vision, R 184 



Wendell Phillips, D 285 
When a great man falls, M 26 
When my eyes, M 34 
Wisdom of the Good, The, Q 146 
Work, Q 108 

Ye stand like giants, R 182 
You cannot conquer America, R 
183 



Wanted — Plain Americans, Q 126 You think me a fanatic, M 32 



m i$u 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 









